Beauty and the Beast (Jeff the Killer x OC)
by Gretel Girl of Creation
Summary: Annabeth Blackburn is a fifteen-year-old girl with a tough life. Why is it tough, you might ask? Well, when she was seven, her mother died, leaving her with her busy father, who is hardly ever at home. And to make matters worse, she might have had the misfortune of catching the eye of a certain smiley killer...(slight OC x Various Creepypasta, but mostly OC x JtK, was 1st on Quotev
1. Prologue

THIS IS MY FIRST CREEPYPASTA FANFICTION, PLZ DON'T HATE!

If Jeff or any of the other characters seem out of character, sorry. If any of you have ever written any Creepypasta x OC/Reader, you probably know how difficult it is to portray a psycho murderer.

* * *

(Eight Years Ago)

The young girl watched stared at the surgeon with wide, wide, eyes. She had such innocent, naive eyes, the surgeon noted sadly. With these news, a little bit of that innocence would vanish.

"My wife?" The stern-looking man sitting next to the girl questioned. Though his face displayed no emotion, the slight wild look in his eyes betrayed his fear. He was afraid to know the answer to the question. "How is she?"

The surgeon paused, unsure of how to respond. This was not his first time delivering tragic news to a family, but it never got any easier. How do you tell a person's family, especially when that person has a young child, that they are _dying_? There was no _right_ , no _easy_ way to say it. You just had to make it seem as gentle as possible and brace for the pain in their eyes.

"There's no easy way to say this," the surgeon began. "But...she is...she won't..."

"ANSWER ME!" The man bellowed, standing abruptly. Next to him, the little girl whimpered a little, partly out of shock that her father had shouted, partly out of fear for her mother. Though she was too young to understand the full extent or gravity of the situation, her instincts told her that something, _something,_ was not right. Her mother? What was wrong with her mother? She hadn't been coming home for the past few days, instead staying in this cold, sterile, stiff place. The girl didn't understand. Was her mother going away? Did she have a new family? Why was she moving so little?

"She won't make it." the doctor said.

Silence hung in the air.

Just as suddenly as he'd stood, the man slumped back down into his chair and put his head in his hands. The girl watched him curiously. What was happening? Why was Father sad? Something bad had happened to Mother. She understood that much. Her mother would never be the same again, but how so?

Leaving the grieving father in solitude with his daughter, the surgeon stepped back into the operating room, unable to stand the sadness permeating the air. Every time this news was delivered, there was the same feeling. First denial, the comprehension, the acceptance. And then there was that terrible _despair._ The silence, the stillness, the pain that nothing could possibly rival. The knowledge that a person you loved was _about to die._ That they _weren't coming back after this._

But only after a few minutes, the surgeon came back into the waiting area. "The patient...she would like to speak with her family." he said quietly. The words _one last time_ weren't added, but very clearly implied, even to the little girl.

The father lurched to his feet, taking his daughter's hand, desperate yet afraid to hear his wife's last words. What would they be? What would she say?

The surgeon led the two into the operating room, where the mother was lying on a hospital bed, blood covering the sheets. Her face was pale and wan, and her once vibrant eyes were vacant and dull, though the life in them had not fully been extinguished. That, too, would happen soon enough.

Weakly, the woman reached out toward the man and young girl, her hand trembling from the effort. The man's stoic facade broke down as tears slipped from his eyes, his hand enveloping his wife's. Her skin was cold.

"Thomas..." she whispered weakly. Her dry, cracked lips curved upward to form a slight smile. "I love you. Take care of our daughter. I'll...never leave you. Don't forget...that."

A sob broke from the man. His wife's words did nothing to alleviate his pain. He'd never see her after this. He could never hold her, kiss her. And Annabeth...he glanced down at the little girl watching the scene with watery eyes. She'd grow up without a mother. By _herself_. He couldn't be a father. He knew he couldn't. "Sharon..."

Sharon's bleak eyes trailed down to her daughter. "Annabeth..."

Said girl looked up, face frightened. _Something_ bad was happening. She didn't know what, but something bad was happening.

"Listen to me." Sharon whispered. "Be strong, okay sweetie? Don't...let _anyone_ push you around, understand? You're...going to grow up to be...a beautiful, independent, strong young woman...okay? Promise me...that you won't let...anyone tell you...what to think...how to act...what to do. And most of all...don't... _ever let someone own you._ Promise?" Her fingers gripped Annabeth's hand feebly.

The young girl had heard her mother tell her this many times before, even before everything turned bad. The words were drilled into her head, even if she didn't fully understand what they meant yet. She squeezed her mother's hand gently. "I promise, Mommy."

Sharon smiles. A genuine, real smile. Her daughter would grow up to be brave, strong, and independent. She could already tell. "I love you, sweetie." she murmured.

Annabeth nodded, tears blurring her vision. "I love you too, Mommy."

Sharon's body fell limp. Her eyes closed.

They never opened again.

* * *

Aaaaaand, prologue completed. I'm so sorry if it sucks. I feel like it did. AAAAHHHHH!

Btw, updates are probably going to be slow, because I have school(Ugh), and you know how much time that takes out of your schedule.

Thanks for reading, and see ya guys soon!~


	2. Chapter 1

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Annabeth groaned, reaching blindly toward her alarm clock until her fingers found and punched the off button. She desperately wanted to go back to sleep, having slept at about 1:00 A.M. last night, but she had school.

 _Ugh._

Forcing her limbs to move, the fifteen-year-old heaved herself out of bed, taking a moment to collect herself. Her eyes were bleary, and she guessed her curly blonde hair was an absolute rat's nest, but she just couldn't seem to gather enough energy to stand up. _Maybe I should take just five more minutes...?_ she thought, the notion sounding extremely appealing. _Yeah, I'll do that._

Annabeth was about to flop back onto the comfort of her bed when her eye noticed the time.

7:03 A.M.

The girl's light gray orbs widened as her brain processed the information. She'd overslept.

School was in thirty minutes.

"Shit!" Annabeth exclaimed, adrenaline surging through her body. Amazing how she could go from a bleary-eyed zombie to a rocket in the span of a second. Almost on their own accord, her legs leaped into action, and before she knew it, Annabeth was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth while frantically trying to scrub her face at the same time. It didn't exactly work out the way she'd planned, resulting in a drenched shirt, but she hardly noticed. If her father found out that she'd been late to school, she might as well dig her own grave and jump into it.

Faster than she'd known she could move, Annabeth was in her school uniform, which consisted of a burgundy shirt, a white jacket, and a pair of black pants. Most of the girls in her school wore skirts, but Annabeth had found out long ago that dresses didn't agree with her (long story). Grabbing a slice of bread, which was all time would allow, she grasped it between her teeth, swung her bag over her shoulder, and burst out the door, checking her watch.

7:13 A.M.

As expected, her dad was already out for work. Annabeth hardly saw him these days, because he left before she woke up and after she went to bed. For all she knew, he hadn't even come home yesterday and was on a business trip to the Bahamas.

Swinging herself onto her bike, Annabeth undid the lock securing it, set it on the road, and began pedaling like a madwoman. If cars honked at her, she didn't notice it. If a police car was chasing her for speeding, she didn't see it. It people cursed at her, she didn't hear it. Her body was focused on one command given by her brain, and one command only: _Get your ass to school right now._

With a fair amount of colorful language, Annabeth pedaled into the school gates. Everyone else was already at their lockers or heading to classes. A few curious looks were thrown at her as she passed, but no one stopped or talked to her.

Reaching her own locker, Annabeth's fingers scrabbled at the lock, frantically trying to put in her combination. Unfortunately, her jittery nerves made her sloppy, and it took her three attempts to input the damn code. When her locker door finally swung open, the girl wasted no time, grabbed all of her textbooks, and raced as fast as she could possibly race to her class. As she slid into her seat and dumped her materials, the bell rang.

 _Thank God_. Annabeth thought. Technically, she wasn't actually late, though there were a few snickers from the class. She ignored it. Fuck them.

(After school)

 _Finally!_ Annabeth mentally sighed with joy as the bell signaling the end of the day rang. It sounded like a call to heaven. Today was Friday, which meant she'd have to go to her self-defense class that her father insisted she take. Annabeth wasn't sure why, but she respected her father's decisions. Maybe it was her mother's will that she know some martial arts skills.

Her mother...

Annabeth barely remembered her mother. She barely recalled what she looked like, and her father refused to say. He'd changes when her mother had died, that much she did remember. When his wife had been alive, Thomas Blackburn had been, with his family, a gentle, happy, loving man. After her death...it was as if all love was frozen from his heart forever, turning him bitter and cold.

What Annabeth did remember only made her more frustrated. She knew that her mother had blonde hair like hers, though her eyes had been a gentle chocolate brown, not shades of gray like Annabeth's. She remembered that she'd been kind and friendly and upbeat, even when things were looking down. Even when she was dying.

Most of all, though...

She remembered those words that her mother would say to her over and over and over again.

 _Don't let anyone push you around. Don't let anyone tell you what to do. And above all, don't ever let anyone own you._

Those words were Annabeth's core. She'd built herself, her life, around them, based on them. No one, _nothing,_ was ever going own her. She was herself. Her own person. Her own property. No one was going to treat her like their pet, because she wouldn't let them. She absolutely would not allow it.

Storing the wayward thoughts at the back of her mind, Annabeth grabbed her bag and headed out of the classroom with a polite, "Have a good day," to her teacher, Mrs. Jones. Her self-defense class was in thirty minutes, so she'd have to get going straight away.

"Annabeth!"

Startled, Annabeth turned. Standing behind her was her friend best Emily. "Oh, hey there, Em." she greeted. "What's up?"

"Not much," Emily replied, flipping her perfectly combed hair over her shoulder. "I just wanted to invite you to this party we're having. Sorry for the short notice."

"Party?" Annabeth was intrigued. She hardly ever went to parties, because she normally had too much to do, taking care of herself in her father's absence. But today was one of those rare occasions where teachers cut them some slack, because summer was approaching in two weeks. "When is it?" she asked.

"It starts at five-thirty." Emily replied. "Can you come?"

Annabeth smiled. Her class ended at five. "Where's it gonna be held?"

"At the YMCA near the school."

"Oh yeah. I can come then."

Emily's face brightened. "Really? Awesome!" she crowed. "Maybe we'll meet some hot guys there!"

Rolling her eyes, Annabeth faked a snort. "Of course, all you think about is the guys, Em." she laughed.

Said girl mimed a pout, shoving Annabeth playfully. "I do not!"

Annabeth grinned. "Face it, you do."

"Okay, fine. Maybe I do." Emily relented with a smile. "Anyways, see ya at the party, girl."

"See you."

As Emily bounced away, Annabeth turned to her locker, got her materials, and left the school. Though summer was fast approaching, today's weather seemed particularly breezy, not that Annabeth minded it. She loved the cooler weather, and intense heat drove her batshit crazy.

Jumping on her bike, Annabeth took off once again, enjoying the feeling of the wind rushing through her hair. Her bike had been a birthday present from her father when she was fourteen, and it was probably one of the only things she'd gotten from him. Annabeth had learned not to ask for much when it came to her father. She just had to be grateful for what she had, Annabeth thought as she peddled past a bench.

The teenager was so engrossed that she didn't notice a tall figure in a white hoodie with the hood pulled tight over his head, obscuring his features sitting on the bench. As she zipped by on her bike, the figure tilted his head up slightly to watch her, a maniacal grin forming on his face.

 _"Hello there, dollface."_

* * *

And there's everyone's favorite psycho killer.

That was terrible, wasn't it? I know it was terrible.

Thanks for reading, and see you guys soon! ^^


	3. Chapter 2

_Ouch._

That was the only thought that went through Annabeth's head as she trudged out of the self-defense class. Today the instructor had been pushing extremely hard, going on and on about how important it was to know how to fight, because...well...

There were killers going around.

 _"Kids, I have an important announcement to make."_

 _Annabeth perked up. If the self-defense class was closing, her father would be pissed._

 _"Today we're going to be working extra hard to learn the most efficient self-defense tactics, okay?"_

 _Kara, a sixteen-year-old girl, raised her hand. "Why, Ms. Smithers?"_

 _Their teacher hesitated before replying. "Because...do any of you know about the Creepypastas?"_

 _Annabeth exchanged a baffled look with her friend Ava. Creepypastas? Of course they knew them - they'd learned about it on the news. "Those...special...serial killers? The ones that can't be killed?" Annabeth spoke up. Ms. Smithers nodded. "Yes. Apparently, the number of killings done by their hand has increased dramatically these past few weeks, especially in this region."_

 _The effect was like dropping a hand grenade in the room. No one spoke. Haunted eyes darted around, like the Creepypastas might suddenly appear out of thin air and mass slaughter the class._

 _"On an interesting note," Ms. Smithers said, "The most killing seems to be being committed by Jeff the Killer."_

 _Annabeth racked her brain. Jeff the Killer, Jeff the Killer, Jeff the Killer, Jeff the Killer...oh. Right._ That _guy. The one who'd supposedly been burned by bullies, gone insane, cut a smile into his own face, and massacred his whole family._

 _Yep. Real nice guy._

 _"How do they know it's him?" Annabeth asked._

 _"For three reasons," her instructor responded. "For one, Jeff's weapon is a kitchen knife, correct?"_

 _The class nodded._

 _"Well, most of the victims were killed with multiple stab wounds, in a fashion that only a kitchen knife could make. And also, most of them have a smile carved into their faces, just like Jeff himself, with the words 'Go to sleep' written on the wall in their own blood. 'Go to sleep' is Jeff's catchphrase, according to the authorities."_

 _The situation unsettled Annabeth. Murderous killers that couldn't be killed themselves running rampant through the area? It was enough to make the toughest gang member cry for his mommy._ Still _, she reasoned,_ there are lots of people in this region. What's the chance that me or my friends will be one of their victims?

Annabeth winced a little as her arm muscles ached from the immense strain she'd put of them earlier. Even so, it was worth it. She knew a considerable amount of self-defense now, enough to give herself a decent chance of not being raped or killed. That aside, she also had a ballpoint pen up her sleeve, though that was probably just paranoia taking over.

 _No more worries for today, Annabeth,_ she chided mentally. _You're about to go to a party, so fucking enjoy yourself._

As she stood on the sidewalk, waiting to cross the road to get to the YMCA, a strange voice caught her ear.

(Note: Of course, the voice is deeper since it's I-think-you-know-who's)

 _I don't wanna die,  
I don't wanna die,  
I don't wanna die  
So you're gonna have to_

 _I don't wanna die,  
I don't wanna die,  
No I don't wanna die  
So you're gonna have to_

 _Blood is getting hotter  
Body's getting colder  
I've told you once,  
I'm the only one who holds her_

 _I don't wanna die,  
I don't wanna die,  
I don't wanna die  
So you're gonna have to_

The hair on Annabeth's neck immediately stood on end at the singing voice. She recognized that song - _I Don't Wanna Die_ by Hollywood Undead. She used to be obsessed with it, and though she still liked it today, it didn't really drive her crazy like it had back then.

It wasn't the song itself that unnerved her, though. It was the _voice._ The sound of that voice just sent shivers down her spine, set alarm bells off in her head, and every instinct in her body screamed, _DANGER!_

Straining her eyes, Annabeth made out a figure about twenty yards away from her. It was about 6'2, nearly a threatening ten inches taller than her. From what Annabeth could figure, the top of her head would reach to about...say, his chin?

Whoever the guy was, he was wearing skinny black jeans and black combat boots. He had on a white hoodie, it's hood yanked fully over his head, obscuring his face from view. This was the type of guy who'd send any delinquent on a run for his money. But most disturbing of all...he kind of resembled that Jeff the Killer dude, with the same white hoodie, black jeans, and black combat boots, and the same tall, toned physique. Surely it couldn't actually _be_ him, right?

 _Whatever._ Annabeth decided. She didn't know and didn't really want to know. Her mother had told her never to let anyone push her around, but Annabeth was sure she hadn't meant _Pick a fight with any random guy._ If this creep bothered her, she's bite back. If he left her alone, she'd leave him alone.

As the cars stopped at the red light, Annabeth took the opportunity to hurry across the street. Making it to the other side, she reached the YMCA, excitement and anticipation flowing through her body. A party! She was going to a party!

Unbeknownst to the girl, the mysterious man's eyes followed her body the entire time, his gaze running appreciatively over her curves. Part of him wanted to go over there and confront the bitch right now, but that would spoil the fun, now wouldn't it?

That didn't make her situation any better, though. That girl belonged to him. He'd chosen her a month ago, and he had no intention of letting go.

 _You can't run from me, doll._

* * *

And there we have it. This story just sucks more and more, doesn't it? O_O

If you are patient enough to read this piece of crap, thanks so much. *hugs*

See you guys soon!~


	4. Chapter 3

"Annabeth!"

Annabeth turned to see Emily running towards her, wearing a pretty blue dress that hugged her torso snugly but flared out at her knees like an upside-down tulip. Her green eyes were circled with bold eyeshadow, making them appear larger and even more startling. A silver bracelet jangled on her wrist, and diamond earrings hung from her ears. Annabeth smiled. Her best friend would definitely be attracting some boys today.

Emily stopped in front of her and did a twirl, showing off her outfit and her hair, stylishly pulled into a complex braid. "What do you think?"

"You look amazing." Annabeth answered honestly. Her friend looked angelic, the lights of the building causing her jewelry to sparkle. "Thanks!" Emily beamed, and looked at Annabeth's own attire.

Though she despised dresses and makeup, Annabeth had donned them both. It was a party, after all, and she would probably have Emily nagging her the entire time if she didn't wear something fancy.

Said girl squealed, clapping her hands. "Oh my God, Beth! You actually put on a dress and makeup! Whoo! One of my life goals is accomplished!"

Annabeth couldn't help but smile at her friend. In contrast to Annabeth's down-to-earth and partly tomboyish personality, Emily was a total girly-girl. They were opposites, which was maybe why they were such good friends.

In any case, Annabeth was wearing a simple black dress with white lace and a red strap running down its middle. It was nothing too fancy, but someone had once told Annabeth that it accentuated her blonde hair and gray eyes, so she figured, _Why not?_ (  pin/401735229230734372/ ) It wasn't like she'd ever have another reason to wear it. She'd only put subtle touches of makeup on, because heavy makeup made her feel itchy and uncomfortable. Annabeth, in her humble opinion, sucked at makeup, so she hoped she didn't look like a total idiot. "Before you tell it to my face, I know, I know, I look like a dumbass." she said.

Emily shook her head vigorously. "Not true!" she declared. "You look awesome, Beth!"

Annabeth blinked. "I do?"

"Totally!~ You gotta tell me where you learned to do makeup like that! Introduce me to your teacher, I wanna learn too!"

Annabeth laughed, waving her friend off. "Calm down, Em! No one taught me! I just did the best I could!"

Emily pouted. "No fair, Annabeth! You're a total natural if you did just your best and got results like that!" Her eyes focused on something behind Annabeth. "Ooh! Look at that!"

"Look at what?"

"That guy over there is checking you out!"

Bewildered, Annabeth glanced over her shoulder to see what her friend was referring to.

What she saw almost made her choke on her own breath.

Standing about ten yards away from her was that man she had seen on the street. The Jeff the Killer look-alike. Or...was it actually _him?_ That couldn't be, could it?

The worst part was...even through his hood, Annabeth could see that he was staring _right at her._

Annabeth stumbled slightly, managing to catch herself before she fell, but her slip up did not go unnoticed by her friend. Annabeth hardly stumbled, she wasn't a clumsy person by nature, so Emily probably could tell that something was wrong right away.

"What's wrong, Beth?" Emily inquired, a puzzled expression plastered over her pretty features. Annabeth stared at her friend. So she hadn't heard about the serials killing going on in the region. Knowing Emily, if she had, she would have noticed the guy's resemblance to Jeff the Killer, started screaming, called the cops, and then screamed some more. Well, Annabeth wasn't really sure whether to tell her or not. Unlike her, Emily had grown up rather pampered by her doting parents, and wasn't a very tough person. It might've been better if she at least had some inkling of the danger she could be in, but what if the knowledge made her paranoid? That would really mess up her life, and Annabeth didn't want that for her best friend.

"I - I just have to go to the bathroom." Annabeth stuttered. Normally she was a good liar, but not this time - Emily could clearly see straight through the facade. Before her friend could question her further, Annabeth hurried away and buried herself in the welcoming solitude, practically leaping into a stall for extra privacy. _Just who the hell was that guy_ , and why was he here? He did not seem like the type to come to a party. But maybe he was just here to be here? Maybe she was overreacting? Annabeth hoped so.

Unfortunately, her trusty instincts told her otherwise. That guy wasn't at this party for any random reason - he clearly had some purpose. Was the creep _stalking_ her?

 _Alright, calm down, Annabeth,_ she told herself mentally. _Breathe in, breathe out._ Though many people viewed the tactic as useless, Annabeth found that it actually worked quite well on her. In a few seconds, her racing heart had calmed down a little, and she began to think. She had her ballpoint pen...she'd always believed it'd never be used, and had hoped it wouldn't have to be, but she'd never been so glad to have it. Even though it wasn't exactly the most fear-inducing weapon around. _Watch out, I've got a ballpoint pen and I'm not afraid to use it!_

Annabeth wanted to stay in here, but what this was a party. She was here to enjoy herself. She hardly ever went to parties, and she'd be damned if she allowed some freaky asshole to ruin it for her. _Never let anyone push you around._ Her mother had said. Well, if she stayed cowering in this stall, she would be letting that guy push her around, and Annabeth refused to do that. Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the stall door and stepped out.

And ran into something that felt like a wall.

 _What in the...?_

Stepping back, Annabeth looked up. What greeted her eyes made her want to scream in fear, spew some _foul_ curses, or just _fucking keel over and die._

It was _him_ again.

Except this time, the guy's hood was down, revealing his features. Annabeth was not a person who was easily scared (in fact, she loved horror), but his appearance made her eyes widen in shock, horror, and revulsion.

First off, his skin was pale, but not at all in a natural way. In fact, it looked almost _bleached_ , as if someone had dropped him in a pool of the chemical and left his in there for a considerable amount of time. To add, from its leathery texture in some places, it appeared to be burnt as well.

Second off, he _had no fucking eyelids._ All he had was crisp, black, charred remains that seemed to twitch occasionally, as if he was attempting to blink but of course couldn't. Annabeth had no idea how he survived without blinking, but she honestly didn't want to know. Black magic? Voodoo? Was he a zombie? None of the possibilities seemed good. His eyes were icy cerulean, almost gray like hers, but they were filled with nothing but craving for blood, craving to kill, to destroy, to rip apart and tear down lives.

Most disturbing of all, though, was that the asshole had a huge, Cheshire cat grin etched into his face, literally stretching from ear to ear. The wounds didn't look even and symmetrical. They were rough, jagged, and _personalized._ As if...as if he'd done them _himself._

No...Annabeth remembered reading about it. He _had_ done them himself.

She'd wondered who the hell he was ever since she first saw him.

Well, mystery solved.

"Hey there, babe." murmured Jeff the Killer. His eyes swept over her body, filling with lust. "Sexy dress." Before Annabeth could react or even process what was happening, his calloused fingers were on her bare thigh and trailing higher to hook a finger under the hem of her skirt.

His lewd actions pierced through her shock, and Annabeth felt indignation filling her. To begin with, he was in the _female's restroom_ and invading her privacy. And to top that off - _Babe? Sexy dress?_ And now he was _fucking touching her?_ Jeff the Killer or not, she was pissed. He was about to regret crossing paths with her.

"Don't touch me, you perverted asshole!" Annabeth snapped, shoving his hands away in disgust. While she couldn't deny that the male was physically attractive in his own, eccentric way, she knew damn well that she wasn't going to sit back and let him put his dirty hands all over her. If she was going to die, it wouldn't be without a fight.

"Is that any way to talk to your master?" Jeff crooned, his alluring voice seeping over her ears like sweet poison. Annabeth's gray orbs widened, disgusted at his words. "In your fuckingdreams _,_ you creep!" she snarled. "You're not my _master_!"

"Aww, don't be like that, doll." the killer purred. "Be a nice little pet and play along, because otherwise I might have to get... _unpleasant_ with you."

The undertones in his voice were obvious. By unpleasant, he either meant 'use force on' or 'kill'. Well, Annabeth was not going to abide by this sucker's rules. Fuck _playing along._ This guy was going to be in a world of pain. "Bring it on." she challenged, her hand going to her ballpoint pen, again thankful that she had it. Annabeth swore to herself that she'd _never_ go anywhere without it from now on.

Jeff giggled. It sounded deranged, _maniacal._ _"Bring it on?"_ he mocked in a terrible imitation of Annabeth's voice. "You heard that, LJ? Dollface here thinks she can put up the tough act."

Annabeth stiffened. _LJ?_

 _" Heard perfectly well, Jeff."_

Annabeth whipped around in alarm just as a second man appeared behind her in a puff of noxious smoke. He was tall, even taller than Jeff, dressed in an utterly ridiculous costume consisting of onyx, gray, and white feathers, linen wrapped around his torso, and black-and-white sleeves covering his unnaturally long arms. He wore a black-and-white striped cone on his nose, and his hair, like Jeff's, was drab black, though a fair bit shorter.

Annabeth hadn't read about about the Creepypastas in several years, but she remembered enough to identify the new and unwelcome guest. _LJ. Laughing Jack._

Great. Wonderful. Now she had the misfortune of being trapped in a bathroom with not one, but two psycho killers that couldn't even be killed, for shit's sake.

 _Well, I think I can say I'm officially fucked._

* * *

And there we go. Chapter 3 finished.

It gets worse and worse, doesn't it? *sighs*

But if you are reading, thank you so much.

See you guys soon.


	5. Chapter 4

Annabeth backed up, warily scrutinizing the two freaks in front of her. She was not a fool - she was quite aware that there was a slim chance that she'd get out of here alive. Hell, not one, but _two_ supernatural, unkillable psychos? The chances were that she'd:

1\. Get killed

2\. Get tortured

3\. Get raped

4\. Get raped, tortured, _and_ killed

Even so, it was not in her nature to just give up when things were looking down. She wasn't as optimistic as her mother had been, but she did have a hard personality. If these two fuckers thought that she was going to curl up and sob while they had their way with her, they were sadly mistaken. She knew that she couldn't kill them, but hell was going to freeze over before she went down without making at least one of them feel _some_ pain. _They were messing with the wrong girl._

"Here's some advice for you, cutie-pie." LJ grinned, putting his needle-sharp teeth on full display. "Put that puny pen down and come with us quietly, and things will be a lot easier for you, mm'kay ?~"

"Yeah, _babe."_ Jeff cooed in that silky voice of his. "I - _we've_ set our sights on you, and trying to escape will be useless. You can buy a ticket to Africa and live with the Bongos and we'd still find you. Why make it harder on yourself? Just be an obedient little doll and you'll be fine... _maybe._ "

Who did they think they were kidding? Certainly not her. "Fuck that." Annabeth hissed at them. "If you boys want a fight, come at me with all you've got. I'm not scared of two dumbasses who live such pathetic lives that they have to _kill_ to feel joy. How fucking sad is that?"

Astonishing how one could switch from a seductive, darkly charming snake to an all-out anger filled bear. " _You fucking bitch!"_ Jeff bellowed, rage flaring in his cerulean eyes. "I'll make you fucking regret letting those words leave your mouth!"

Annabeth cowed inwardly. This guy had serious issues - well, duh. He was a killer. Either he needed hook up an anger management class, or he was bipolar. Part of her wanted to whimper and apologize profusely, but she swallowed the urge down, reminding herself, _Never let anyone push you around._ "I'd like to see you try." she challenged softly.

And just like that, the fury in Jeff's orbs vanished, replaced by lust. "It's so _fucking hot_ when you act all rough and tough, sweetcheeks." An insane chuckle slipped from his mouth.

"Yeah, too bad we're going to have to _utterly squash_ that attitude, huh?" LJ commented.

Annabeth sneered. "Good luck with that, Stripes. Just try it, and I'll shove your beloved lollipops so far up your ass that you'll be waddling around with it for the rest of your life."

Before his - friend? Partner? - could respond to her threat, Jeff let out a bored sigh. "You're so cute, babe, but it gets a little old after a while, you know? I mean," he smirked, "no fear, no screaming. Most of those whores I kill are crying and pleading for their pathetic lives. You're...different, though. Unfortunately for you, I doubt you're really as tough as you like to seem, doll. And I'm going to see that submissive side of you someday soon. After that...well...we could have some _fun_ together, don't you think?"

The implication was obvious to Annabeth, and thoroughly revolting. "No way in hell, you disgusting - "

In the blink of an eye, Jeff had closed the distance between them, swinging his knife hilt first at Annabeth's head. She silently thanked her naturally speedy reflexes as she barely dove out of the way and stumbled against the wall, regaining her balance. As she quickly turned around to face the two mental creeps, she noticed a fake pout of Jeff's face, along with a hint of amusement. He was _toying_ with her.

"Aww, that's no fun, sweetcheeks." Jeff whined. "Why won't you just stay still? It'd be a lot easier for both of us."

Annabeth opened her mouth to respond when a knock on the door stopped her. "Annabeth?" It was Emily's voice, much to her horror. "You've been in there a while. Are you okay?"

"Emily!" Annabeth called frantically. "Don't come in here! There's - " Her warning was cut off as Jeff, taking advantage of her distraction, charged forward and barreled into her, knocking them both down. The point of his knife hovered next to her cheek. "No you don't. This is a private little game between you and me, doll. Don't breathe a single word about this to anyone else, understand? Otherwise..." he smirked. " _You'll_ _regret it."_

"Annabeth!" came Emily's voice again. "I'm coming in in ten seconds!"

Jeff glanced at the door before looking back down at the girl pinned beneath him, Laughing Jack watching with a delighted grin on his face. "I'm afraid we're going to have to close the curtains here. _For now."_ he hissed, emphasizing the _for now._ The message was crystal clear - _he'd be back._ "In the meantime," purred the killer, "Consider this a parting gift."

Annabeth's brain scrambled to process his words. A parting gift? What did he mean?

She got her answer in a second, and honestly would've preferred she hadn't.

Jeff the Killer _kissed_ her.

Her eyes widened until she thought they'd burst, physically gagging as his lips connected to hers, his tongue hungrily swiping the seam of her lips. They parted out of pure shock. And lustful groan escaped Jeff as he tangled his hands through Annabeth's hair, sweeping the moist cavern. Their tongues tangled, instinctively battling for dominance. Before a clear victor could be decided, Jeff broke off, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "You're good at this, dollface." he crooned, caressing Annabeth's cheek. Her orbs widened in disgust as she shoved the creep's hands off her, feeling _completely_ _violated_. Her first kiss, stolen by this deranged, maniacal asshole.

Jeff chuckled darkly at her actions. "It ain't as bad as you make it seem, babe. Hell, I think it felt pretty good for _both of us_."

"Fuck you." Annabeth spat.

Jeff's smirk widened, blood oozing from the self-inflicted lacerations on his cheek. "All in due time, doll." he giggled. "Part of me wants to take right you right here and right now, in more ways than one. But that would ruin our little game, don't you think? So I'll hold myself back a little. Just a little. I hope you like my little opening act, because I've got _a shit ton more_ in store for you. Oh, and before I forget..." Jeff leaned perilously close to Annabeth's ear, his cold lips whispering against her skin. " _Welcome to hell, sweetcheeks."_

Somewhere, somehow, Annabeth found the strength to respond. "Thanks for the consideration, asshole." she growled.

This only made the killer laugh harder. "Oh, you're _so_ welcome, babe." he purred.

The door swung open. Annabeth's head snapped up, terrified that Emily would come in and find her in a compromising position with this psychopath.

"What's going on, Beth? Why are you on the floor?"

 _Huh?_ Annabeth glanced back in the killers' direction.

They were gone.

 _Damn._

"It's nothing. Not important." Annabeth choked out. "I just slipped and fell on that puddle of water." she lied, pointing at a convenient wet spot on the bathroom floor.

Emily frowned. "You're not usually this clumsy, Annabeth. Are you sure you're okay?"

The mentioned girl forced a smile past her lips, managing to make it seem genuine. "I'm fine, Em. Really. Just the stress of the school year catching up to me."

Her friend grinned. "Yeah, I can totally understand that." she chirped as Annabeth stood up, wiping off her dress. "C'mon. Let's go party some more."

Annabeth nodded. In truth, she wanted nothing more than to go home and forget about this whole ordeal, but she couldn't do that without raising Emily's suspicions. So she played along, feigning enthusiasm.

Though inside she knew that her life would _never_ go back to the way it was before.

* * *

Oh. My. God. I made Jeff and LJ COMPLETELY OOC, didn't I? I'm so sorry! *runs around in distress*

As usual, thanks for reading.

See you soon.


	6. Chapter 5

Sorry if this chapter is boring (and short). Most of it has no action, just Annabeth thinking.

* * *

Annabeth sighed in joy as she flopped down on her mattress. It was May 27th, 6:01 P.M.

School was out.

No more homework. No more studying. No more dealing with those gross, annoying group of perverted boys who went out with _every_ girl they saw, only to break up with her a day after. Annabeth herself had been asked out several times by guys like them, but she always declined.

First of all, there was no way her strict father would ever allow her to date at age fifteen. Mainly, though, she _didn't want to._ Her father was away on a business trip to Texas, and wouldn't be coming home until at least a month later. Annabeth would be by herself for a while. The prospect wouldn't have bothered her only two weeks ago, but now...A frown came over Annabeth's face. She felt apprehensive about being at home alone.

All thanks to those goddamned freaks who'd shown up at the party. Just the thought of those two asses made Annabeth want to punch a wall. Now she'd have to spend a month or more of summer worrying about them and when, or if, they would come back. _They had just fucking ruined her summer break without even trying._

Annabeth growled in frustration. If she saw those two again, especially that joker wannabe with the dumbass Cheshire cat smile, she was going to kick them where the sun didn't shine. Summer break was supposed to be a release from stress, damn it. Not the increase of paranoia, worry, and fear. She'd give anything for her father to come back. This month couldn't go by fast enough for her.

Then again, maybe it was better that he stay away. Her father was a tough man, but what could he do against two unkillable psycho killers? Even the police would be helpless against someone like Jeff of LJ. It was better that Annabeth face this danger all alone, without putting anyone else on the line.

Despite the fact she hadn't seen then in half a month, Annabeth was no less worried. Jeff had promised that he had, "a shit ton more in store for her." She hoped, _wished,_ he'd been bluffing just to keep her on edge. Unfortunately, Annabeth's gut instinct informed her otherwise, as if saying, _Sorry girl, wishful thinking._ Jeff would be back for her. He wanted something out of Annabeth, and he was determined to get it. The teenager didn't think Jeff had been denied what he wanted many times before. One just didn't simply refuse a serial killer with a " _fuck off"_ and expect it to work.

There was something the smiley killer desired from her. And Annabeth imagined he'd be damn good at getting it.

 _What_ exactly was that something, though?

 _I'm going to see that submissive side of you someday soon. After that...well...we could have some fun together,_

 _don't you think?_

 _Part of me wants to take you right here and right now, in more ways than one._

Annabeth froze. She was afraid she finally, _finally,_ after two weeks of debate and headaches, understood what he wanted. No...she'd suspected it since long ago...she just didn't want to put the suspicion into words. It was too horrible to even think about. And yet, it was the only reasonable option. He'd left her alive - if Annabeth was just another one of his countless targets, she doubted he would have. The fucker probably would've tortured her to death in that bathroom and left her mauled body for the authorities to find and dissect. Or maybe he would've dissected her himself.

But he hadn't.

He'd let her live, claiming that there was some twisted secret _game_ between the two of them.

And also...

The deranged maniacal asswipe had _kissed her._ The thought of it still made the girl shiver from disgust. She remembered the way Jeff's lips had roved against hers, almost in _synchronization._ He'd tangled his tongue with her own with such lust and passion that Annabeth knew that he'd found some sort of sick, perverted pleasure in their kiss. _The bastard._

But everything he did - saying he'd see that _submissive_ side of her (haha), telling her he wanted to _take_ her, and _kissing_ her, for God's sake - all pointed towards one possibility.

He wanted her.

The mere thought made Annabeth cringe. Why did she, out of the millions or billions of girls with the world, have to catch the eye of a killer? She'd never considered herself particularly pretty, and she wasn't at all the most popular girl around. So _what the hell_ was it that made Jeff so interested in her?

She didn't know, and she wasn't sure she even _wanted_ to know.

Annabeth sighed. There was another issue. Jeff had said, " _We've_ set our sights on you." Who was _we_? While she wasn't a hundred percent sure, Annabeth had a pretty good idea.

The Creepypastas.

If she was right, what did they want with her now? Annabeth doubted _all_ of the Creepypastas had a thing for her like Jeff did. Her best guess was that Slenderman, their boss, wanted something from her. What the fuck could _that_ be? There was absolutely nothing that was special about Annabeth. She wasn't bad-looking, but there were several prettier girls. Emily, for instance. Her friend was one of the most beautiful girls at school. Not that Annabeth wished Emily was targeted instead. She was determined not to involve anyone else in this. This was her problem, and her problem alone.

And not that Annabeth thought Slenderman was interested in her because of her looks. If everything she'd heard about the Creepypastas' boss was true, Slender wanted her for some deeper reason. Something that went down to...special talents.

The thought made Annabeth almost laugh. Special talents? Her? Fuck no. There was absolutely nothing about her that was _special_. Was there?

Annabeth sighed. Just her luck that she had to pique the interest of psycho murderers. She had to figure out _what the fuck_ had those creeps so interested in her. If it was anything she could get rid of, Annabeth swore that she'd cut it out of her body, even if it was her eyes, or her hair, or her fingers...whatever the hell it was. It would be better than dealing with those asses, especially that fucktard Jeff.

 _Damn him to hell. Damn them all to hell._

The teenager groaned in frustration, briefly closing her eyes. She felt like she couldn't face reality, but after a moment, she opened her gray orbs again. _Don't let anyone push her around._ It was going to take more than some bloodthirsty, maniacal, self-control lacking fuckers to make her falter.

Deciding she needed a shower, Annabeth hauled herself into sitting position, taking a moment as the blood rushed from her head to her body. She ran a slender hand through her messy blonde hair,steeling her nerves. _Here's the plan,_ she told herself. _Take a shower and relax, and party like it's 1999. It's summer break, for fuck's sake! I'm going to enjoy myself!_

Energized by the "plan", the girl stood up, grabbing a towel from her closet. Just the thought of a warm shower cheered her up.

Annabeth pulled the hair tie out of her hair, wincing as it yanked out a few strands of flaxen hair from her scalp. Her curly hair had always bothered her, but she hadn't cut it since two years ago, letting it grow out. The few times her father had spoken of her mother, he'd always described her to have long, curly blonde hair, just like Annabeth. Though her mother was dead, sharing a trait with her always made Annabeth feel like Sharon Blackburn was up in the sky, watching over her. If she was...what did she think of the fact that her daughter was being targeted by serial killers?

Opening the bathroom door, Annabeth frowned. The air was faintly damp and warm, as if someone used it in the past hour. That couldn't be possible. She'd just gotten back from school. A horrible suspicion started growing within her. Why couldn't she be less intuitive, for God's sake? At this rate she'd go insane. Even though she doubted she'd carve a smile into her own face like Jeff. " _Now I can smile forever" my ass,_ Annabeth thought.

As she stepped into the bathroom, movement in the tub caught the teen's eye. Though questioning what the fuck it could be, Annabeth's brain was already telling her the answer. She hoped it was wrong, but of course, no such luck.

Jeff the Killer lounged in her bathtub, smirking flippantly at her outraged look.

"You fucking - " Annabeth couldn't even find the words to express her fury. _You fucking piece of shit_ didn't even _begin_ to satisfy her. She wanted nothing more than to grab a pipe and bash the fucker's head in, but then again, he'd probably just regenerate and laugh at her.

Said killer that had dominated most of her (very, very, _negative_ ) thoughts stood up abruptly, his smile growing even wider. Annabeth took a step back, once again reminded of how tall the asshole was. Why the fuck did he have to completely dwarf her?

" _Hello again, dollface,"_ Jeff purred in his alluring voice. " _Miss me?"_

* * *

That was boring, wasn't it? Sorry. O_O

I promise there will be some action in the next chapter.

Thank you for reading, and I'll see you guys soon!


	7. Chapter 6

"No." Annabeth stated bluntly. "I didn't miss you."

Jeff pouted. "Now that's not very nice, babe. After all, I came all this way just to see that gorgeous face of yours again."

"Fuck that," Annabeth growled at him. "I don't give two fucks what you're reasons are - get the hell out. And stay the hell out."

"But dollface ~" the killer whined in a ridiculously childlike voice, like a four-year-old who wasn't getting his way. For some reason, the naivety behind the tone chilled Annabeth to the bone. "That would ruin our fun little game. Besides, if I did leave you alone, my focus would have to shift to some other cute little girl. Say...that pitifully delicate best friend of yours." his Cheshire cat grin widened as Annabeth's eyes snapped open, his implication slowly dawning on her. "Was her name... _Emily?"_

"Lay a _single fucking finger_ on her and I will chop off your man parts and feed them to you, piece by piece." Annabeth hissed, her blood simmering and her head pounding with fury. This sack of shit has just threatened her best friend, and that was _not okay._ She didn't give a rat's ass whether Jeff was unkillable or not. Endangering her friend was completely unforgivable in Annabeth's eyes, and she would damn well make sure that Jeff knew it. He was not going to get to Emily. She wouldn't allow him to, even if it meant cutting him into bite-sized pieces and storing each one in a separate jar.

Unexpectedly, the teenager caught a flash of lust in Jeff's eyes. It made her cringe in disgust. "There's something about the way you say that that makes you _so fucking hot."_ he breathed. "You're like a fucking drug, doll. I know I shouldn't, I know it's bad, but I still want more and more with each passing second. And guess what?"

He was pinning Annabeth to the bathroom wall before she could blink, his leathery hand caressing her face. The girl's eyes widened from panic and anger as the killer smirked, bringing his face dangerously close to her. Their lips almost brushed, reminding Annabeth of their kiss. The thought did not help.

"I'm Jeff the Killer, and _I always. Fucking. Get. What. I. Want."_

 _His fucking voice._ It was so potent, so full of insanity and lust and want and anger that tears formed in Annabeth's eyes - partly tears of fear, but so much more. How someone could be reduced to this state, she didn't know and didn't want to. Jeffrey Woods had once been a human being, just like anyone else. Just like her father, her mother, Emily...

Just like _her._

So how...

How did he become like... _this?_

 _What the hell happened to him?_

Jeff noticed the moisture in her eyes and giggled. He sounded so unbalanced, so fucking _crazy. "What's the matter, sweetcheeks?"_ the killer cooed, producing his knife from his pocket and letting the sharp point of the blade hover in front of Annabeth's cheek. " _Are you scared? Well boo fucking hoo."_

 _Get a fucking grip, Annabeth!_

Spurred by a sudden burst of anger, Annabeth slapped his hand aside, eyes flaring. "Don't touch me, you delusional maniac." she spat. "You _kill_ for a living, because you can't find anything better to do? That's fucking pathetic. I'm not scared of some jerk that couldn't control his own self and ended up killing his family. And after that, you regretted it! If you were going to do that, you shouldn't have killed them in the first place! I think it should be _me_ saying 'boo fucking hoo' to _you_ , don't you thi - "

 _THWACK!_

Annabeth's gray orbs widened in shock and pain as Jeff backhanded her across the face, knocking her head to the side. The teenager reeled back for a moment, stunned, before she forced herself to regain her bearings.

 _"You insolent bitch!"_ Jeff snarled, his icy blue eyes filled with astonishing rage and instability. _"Who the fuck_ _do you think you are?!"_

The girl swallowed back her fear. She refused to let this fucker have his way. If he was used to his victims cowering and begging for their lives, he had another thing coming. She didn't _beg,_ not to despicable, vile, rotten serial killers like him. "I'm just me," she stated. "but that's enough to tell that you - you act all tough, but you're really just a pitiful little boy who's trying to find his place in the world. But guess what? _There's no place for a killer like you. Not here, not fucking anywhere. I bet_ Liu _would agree, don't you, Jeffrey_?"

The killer released a strangled scream, his fist lashing out and punching the wall, missing Annabeth's face by an inch. If he'd been accurate, her face would be smashed in, and she'd probably be dead. As it was, there was a large hole in the wall from where the killer's fist had slammed into it.

 _Goddamn my life._

 _"Don't!"_ Jeff's shriek echoed through the house like an explosion. _"Don't fucking say his name! Don't make me think about him! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut the fuck up!"_

Annabeth took a nervous step away from the ranting boy, unsure of how to respond. The rational part of screamed, _RUN, YOU_ _DUMBASS!_ while the emotional, _soft_ part of her told her to stay and try to calm him down. But no way in hell she was doing that shit - Annabeth might've been reckless, but she wasn't stupid.

After a moment's consideration, the girl raced to the kitchen and snatched a knife out of the cupboard. She would've preferred a handgun, or a shotgun, or an AK-47, but of course, she didn't own any of those things, so she'd have to make do with what she had.

Jeff's maniacal tantrum had apparently only gotten worse. He was currently sprawled on the bathroom floor, curled in a ball, constantly throwing ranting fits or screaming bloody murder about how he'd skin Annabeth alive and feed her guts to "Smile" and her kidneys to "EJ".

Annabeth wasn't sure what he was talking about, but she held the knife in front of her warily, considering her options. Attack him? Maybe, but she couldn't be sure how he would respond. That option was one she'd rather not take, and would only save for last resort.

Call the police? Would they arrive on time? Besides, if the Creepypastas were truly unkillable, then calling the cops might just get more people killed. Annabeth didn't want that. She had to deal with this alone. Another last-minute resort, then.

Wait...

Wasn't there something about the Creepypastas that said they, for some reason, never killed and avoided attacking police officers?

Why?

 _Who fucking cares?_ Annabeth screamed at herself. _Call the police!_

Taking advantage of the boy's raging fit, the girl ran from the bathroom, grabbed her phone and dialed 911.

"911, what's your emergency?" came a calm, stern yet comforting voice from the other end of the line.

"In my house - somehow - " Annabeth took a deep breath, calming her frazzled nerves. "I'm sorry for blabbering - Jeff the Killer is in my house. 2586 Lucifenian Courte."

"Jeff the Killer?" the voice held a slight hint of surprise and eagerness. Apparently Jeff was a popular candidate for being thrown in a jail cell.

"Yes." Annabeth responded simply.

"Alright, hold on." the woman replied. "We've sent people over."

' The teen breathed out quietly. "Thank you. I'll be fine now." she said, though she wasn't sure of that.

"You're welcome. Would you like me to stay on line, or - "

Suddenly, a callous hand yanked the cellphone away from Annabeth. "No you don't, bitch." snarled a familiar and very unwelcome voice.

"Ma'am?" the woman on the other side called. "Ma'am, are you alri - "

Her voice cut off abruptly as Jeff threw the phone to the ground and stomped on it, breaking the device into hundreds of little bits of glass and machinery. As he finished utterly crushing it, he turned furious eyes on Annabeth. She squashed down the urge to beg for forgiveness and instead gripped the knife in her hand so hard that it shook.

"You think you can get away from me?" Jeff snarled. "If I want you, I'm going to fucking have you, whether you like it or not. You might as well accept that right now."

 _Survive. Survive until the police get here._

"I don't thing so, Jeff." Annabeth cooed. "If you think you're going to _have_ me, you're in for a surprise. You see, I don't care if you want me, or any bullshit like that. I belong to no one but myself, so you can go fuck yourself."

"You little slut," the killer spat. His previous charming attitude was gone, replaced by dark, maniacal fury. "I'll make you eat those words when I _fucking break you_ and turn you into my own personal doll."

Annabeth's eyes narrowed. "Dream about it, creep. If you so much as try, I'll gut you with your own precious knife."

A deranged chuckle escaped Jeff's mouth, his rage abruptly reverting back to his "snake" persona, as Annabeth had labelled it. "As _dreamy_ as it is to sit here conversing with you, babe, we're kind of on a time limit because a certain someone called those meddling cops. I'm going to have to make you mine right this instant, and we'll talk more at my place, mmm'kay? ~"

"Hell to the - "Annabeth started, but cut off and reeled backwards in surprise as Jeff leaped at her, his knife hilt poised to knock her out cold. She ducked under the strike and ran out the room, dashing madly through the long hallway (her father was a rich man) and scrambled down the stairs, nearly tripping in her urge to get away.

"Come back here, sweetcheeks ~" Jeff's voice crooned from somewhere upstairs, making her hackles stand on end. "I promise I won't hurt you...much."

 _Yeah, that totally reassures me, asshole._ Annabeth thought sarcastically, though she wasn't dumb enough to call out and alert him of her location. By the sound of his relaxed footsteps, Jeff was in no hurry to track her down. _He believes that I can never escape him. Arrogant bastard._ But that fact could work in her favor. That and the other truth that she knew the large house better than him. It wasn't much, but it was all Annabeth had, and she'd make sure to use it well until the police got here.

The teen slipped into the guest bathroom, locked the door, and barricaded it with a small shelf, and scooted over to the window, barely large enough for the slender girl to squeeze out. Luckily, it was far too small for Jeff to enter through. Unluckily, it would take some time for Annabeth to get out herself.

"Dollface ~" Jeff's alluring voice sounded horrifyingly close to the bathroom door. Annabeth swallowed the impulse to scream and quietly opened the window, prepared to leap the hell out if Jeff tried anything.

 _BANG!_

The girl jumped. The bathroom door rattled wildly, as if something, or _someone_ , was throwing itself at it. At this point, Annabeth wanted to curl up on the floor and sob, but she couldn't afford that. This piece of shit was _not_ getting the better of her. She refused to let him.

 _"Come on, doll, open the door."_ the killer grumbled, sounding like he was just _fucking arguing with a friend._

 _This sick, psychopathic, maniacal fucker._

 _"I know you're in there ~"_ Jeff wildly twisted the door handle to the bathroom, trying to get it open. For the moment, he was unsuccessful, and Annabeth sagged slightly in relief, but then there was a metallic _clunk._ The girl'seyes widened as she realized what was happening. Jeff was trying to cut a hole into the wooden door, reach in, and unlock it. Annabeth wondered if she should get the hell out of there right this instant, but before she could make up mind, a blade lodged through the door and twisted this way and that, shaving off scraps of wood and widening the hole. She nearly screamed.

Before the girl could react, a hand reached through the door and groped for the handle. Recovering from her shock, Annabeth darted forward and, without hesitation, stabbed his hand with her own knife.

"FUCK!" Jeff bellowed so loudly, Annabeth winced. She stumbled back to the window and clambered out of it, slipping her slender body through it. She fell head over heals down the roughly six foot drop, biting her lip to stop herself from groaning from he hard impact. What the hell was taking the police so long?

Reaching up, Annabeth close the window back up just as a shriek of frustration and rage come from outside the bathroom door. She swallowed. Jeff was pissed.

 _"Get your ass over here, bitch!"_ the enraged killer screamed.

Annabeth nearly laughed, despite herself. _Get back here?_ He was wasting his breath. No way she was doing that. Only a one-month-old baby would listen to listen to that. Actually, she doubted even one of them would.

Suddenly, Annabeth tilted her head, a wailing sound reaching her ears. It didn't sound like a person. It sounded like...

Sirens.

Yes!

The police were coming! Just a little bit longer!

Scrambling to her feet, the teenager ran across the yard at breakneck speed, trying to prevent herself from falling on her ass on the slippery grass. She dove behind a dense bush, ignoring the twigs and branches that dug into her skin. There were probably bugs crawling all over her, but that was the very least of Annabeth's worries right now. Hunkering down in the shrubbery, Annabeth listened to the sound of the sirens, trying to take comfort from the keening noise. Her heartbeat boomed in her ears slowly and ethereally, as if the world had slowed and each second had stretched out to a minute.

 _"Found yoooouuuuu! ~"_

With a shriek, Annabeth lurched out of the bush to see the psychopath standing over her, his knife glinting in the fading light. She had no idea how he'd found her so fast - maybe she just sucked at hide-and-seek.

With a manic smile, Jeff raised his knife, its hilt poised over her head. "Go to sleep!" he cackled, laughing madly.

 _No you fucking do not, you psycho._

As Jeff brought the hilt down over her head, Annabeth, for the third - fourth? Fifth? - time, dodged the strike and purposely barreled straight into Jeff's legs, knocking him down. With a fair bit of cursing, Annabeth hauled herself to her feet and hightailed it across the yard, aiming for the fence so she could climb over it and get the hell out of there.

Before the teenager could reach her fence, someone hammered into Annabeth, making her sprawl to the ground. The pounding impact made a gasp escape her, her torso throbbing.

"Give up, doll," Jeff whispered in her ear, teasing her earlobe with the point of his knife. Annabeth shivered. "When I want something, I fucking get it. If you weren't so damn stupid, we could've avoided all of this. But I guess I should be glad you're so stubborn, because this has been a shit ton of fun. And now, you're finally mine. It's time for you to go to slee - "

"Freeze!"

The authoritative voice made even Jeff pause for a second.

Police officers poured into the yard, all of them armed with guns, every single one pointing at the killer.

"Damn it..." he growled, his body tensing.

"Get off the girl, drop the knife, and put your hands up in the air or we'll shoot." the same voice said calmly.

Jeff gave a sharp giggle. "You know you can't kill me, mortal. Dollface and I have a little unfinished business, so give us a little fucking privacy, why don't you?"

"You lying ass!" Annabeth spat. "We don't have any business between us. Get the hell off of me."

"You're so cold, sweetcheeks."Jeff complained, ignoring the cops.

"We _will_ shoot." the officer threatened again.

The killer groaned. "Fine, fine." he got up, looking down at Annabeth. "Fuckface won't let me kill cops - otherwise, you'd be fucked. But don't relax. You're mine, doll, and I'll make sure you know it." He crouched down again, whispering directly in her ear.

 _"I'll be back."_

 _Then he was gone._

Phew! This was one long chapter. I did not mean to make it this long, sorry.

Thanks for reading, and see you guys soon.


	8. Chapter 7

This chapter is more of a filler, so it'll be boring and short. Sorry about that.

 _I'll be back._

Annabeth growled as her stalker's words filled her ears again. On reflex and maybe a bit of paranoia, she looked up from her bed, but nothing and no one was there. The teenager sighed, relaxing her tense muscles. It had been five days since Jeff's intrusion into her house, and Annabeth had looked left and right for how the hell he'd gotten in, as were the police, whom had just questioned her at their station for the umpteenth time.

So far, their efforts had been unsuccessful.

And Annabeth had a sinking feeling that it was going to stay that way.

Letting loose another irritable snarl, the girl rolled over, tangling her legs in the sheets. Why did she have to be the one to catch the eye of that damn killer? Well, being stalked by Jeff wasn't a fate she'd wish upon any other girl, but still...ugh.

 _This fucking sucks. School used to be my biggest worry. Now I'd give anything for it to go back to being like that._

What the hell was she going to do?

 _God damn it._

Annabeth steeled her nerves. Laying on her bed moping wasn't going to help anything. She had to somehow develop at least minimal countermeasures against Jeff.

What countermeasures?

How do you stave off a person that can't be killed?

Or found?

A person that's not even human?

First off, though, she had to focus on herself. Annabeth knew she was no match for Jeff physically and likely would never be. But she wanted to become at the very least a little bit better in self-defense. Carrying a weapon around would probably also be beneficial.

Unfortunately, Annabeth was only fifteen. What weapon was legal to be carried around at her age?

Pocket knife?

Nope.

Taser?

Nope.

Gun?

 _Definitely_ nope.

There was nothing - at least, nothing that she could think of.

Annabeth heaved herself out of bed and stumbled wearily over to her desk, looking for something. It was a pencil her father had bought for her a few months ago, with a protruding metal tip. (nice-tip-of-Paper-Mate-Logo-II)

Her hand closed around the pencil and she gripped it like it was her lifeline. The possibility that it could be was very plausible.

Not a gun, not a taser, not even a knife, for God's sake, but it was better than nothing. After all, she thought, examining the tip, being stabbed with this would be rather painful. It would serve as a distraction at its most useless.

That settled, then. At least, as settled as it could ever be at this point in time. Annabeth hoped that the whole Jeff experience would be over and done with by that time, but once she got old enough, she was, without a doubt, going buy herself a knife. And a taser. And a gun.

A sudden paranoia crept over her as she recalled Jeff's self-inflicted permanent smile, and she quickly checked to make sure all over the openings to the house were locked. The teen remembered locking them, but one could never be too careful when it came to a serial killer.

Especially a non-human, obsessed, immortal one like Jeff.

Annabeth clenched her fists.

 _I refuse to be beaten by that fucker._

Jeff the Killer might be used to getting what he wanted. He might expect all "mortals" to scream upon seeing him. He might be used to "puny" humans bowing and scraping and groveling and submitting to his every will, his every whim.

If that was the case, he was in for a shock. Annabeth was going to be different. She was not going to do what he wanted. She was not going to scream. She was not going to bow or scrape or grovel or submit to his every will and whim.

Hell no. Jeff didn't need his already inflated ego getting any bigger. And Annabeth didn't need him strutting around like her owned her, claiming that she _belonged_ to him. She belonged to _no one._ No one but herself.

 _Our little game._ Jeff had said.

Jeff wanted to play a game with her?

Fine, then.

She would oblige.

And she would put that bastard in his place.

Because whether he liked it or not, whether he believed it or not, Annabeth did not belong to him.

He could hit her. He could threaten her. He could shout at her. He could stab her.

But he would never, _ever,_ own her.

 _Jeffrey Woods..._

 _You are in for one hell of a ride._

That was boring. I am so sorry. I'll try to make the next chapter have more action, but I can't promise anything.

Thank you so much for reading, and see you guys soon!


	9. Chapter 8

Annabeth grinned as Emily snapped another photo of them on her phone and was now examining it, bemoaning "how terrible she looked". As expected, only her best friend could cheer her up in such a hopeless life.

"But you came out awesome, Beth!" Emily whined, pouting her perfect red lips. "It's not fair!"

Said girl waved her hand, still smiling. "Well, sorry, Em." she replied, "But it's not my fault! You know how capricious cameras are! Some days, they make you look amazing, and other times...not so much. Yours is the worst. Honestly, I warned you about buying that phone."

"It looked so good when I first saw it," Emily grumbled. "I wasted my money. Cheaters. Liar, liar, pants on fire!"

Annabeth smirked at her friend's antics. Emily was the same age as her, fifteen, but sometimes she wondered if her mental age was that of a ten-year-old's. "Really, Em, you can be so childish sometimes." she scolded.

Emily smiled brilliantly and grabbed her hand, snapping another photo before Annabeth could react. "That's why we're such great friends, right?" she laughed. Annabeth faked a scowl, but she couldn't seem to make it convincing as Emily giggled and rolled her eyes.

"Come on!" Emily chirped.

Annabeth frowned. "Whaddya mean? Our plans were to stay over at my house, right?"

Her friend laughed. "Oh, come on Beth, you know what I'm talking about!"

"Em, I told you, that's too dangerous. We can't just - "

Emily grinned suggestively. "So you scared?"

"No! It's just that - well - exploring a forest? That's a dumb thing to do! You'd have to be stupid to do something like that! It's dangerous." _Especially when a psycho killer is obsessed with you,_ Annabeth thought, though she didn't mention it out loud. She didn't want to freak out Emily, or make her life a wreck like Annabeth's was.

Not to mention that if she kept refusing, Emily would become suspicious.

Still, she persisted. Annabeth had heard that the Creepypastas lived in a mansion or some shit like that in the woods. She didn't want to risk it.

"It's just a forest," Emily grumbled. "Honestly, it's not like there'll be, what, killers or something."

Annabeth almost laughed at the irony, but she forced it back. "Maybe not. But there's a chance. It's dangerous, Em!"

"Then I'll go by myself!"

 _Hell no._

Annabeth sighed. How could someone soft like Emily turn so persistently stubborn when she wanted to? She'd learned that once her friend set her mind to something that she wanted to do enough, nothing was going to dissuade her from going through with it. And if she insisted on doing so, Annabeth didn't want her to be alone.

"Fine. I'll go."

"Yay!"

(Time skip: One hour later)

Annabeth felt a grin spreading over her face.

 _Em was right. This isn't so bad._

"I was right! This isn't so bad, is it?" Emily crowed triumphantly, lightly shoving Annabeth. She stuck her tongue out childishly at her friend. "That was exactly what I was thinking. Em, you sure you're not a mind reader?"

"Positive. I just know my best friend very, _very,_ well." Emily laughed. Annabeth smiled. "Yeah, yeah. You're right. After all, we've known each other since fourth grade."

"That's the spirit!" Emily encouraged, making the girl slap her arm lightly.

 _What would I do without you, Em?_ Annabeth wondered affectionately.

Unbeknownst to both teen girls, a tall, lean figure watched them from the dark treeline of the deeper forest, his cerulean orbs on the one with long, curly blonde hair and stormy gray eyes. He chuckled maliciously to himself.

 _Oh, doll. You're so stupid. You shouldn't have come here, especially not with that other girl._ His icy eyes moved to the other girl with straight, glossy, rich brown hair, naturally pale skin, and forest-green eyes. _So it's fucking true, huh? I wondered, but now_ _I can see how much you care about her just from watching that look on your beautiful face._

The figure laughed quietly, making sure to keep the volume down to prevent Annabeth and Emily from hearing him.

 _"Looks like I've found a chink in your armor, sweetcheeks."_

(Time skip: Two hours later)

Emily shrieked, making Annabeth jump. Alarm bells went off in her brain. What was it? Jeff? Slenderman? Laughing Jack? That "EJ" and "Smile" that Jeff had been blabbering about back in her house? She turned to her friend in bewilderment, seeing a frightened and revolted expression on her face. "What the hell, Em? Are you okay?" she asked.

" _I think I see a dead deer over there!"_ Emily screeched. _"Gross!"_

"That's it?" _Phew! I thought she'd seen, like, that Jeff asswipe or something._ "Honestly, Em. I thought our lives were in danger or something." Annabeth grumbled. She followed Emily's gaze and did in fact notice a large, dark form slumped in the underbrush, with vague details visible - four slender legs, sharp cloven hooves. Her interest piqued - she'd never seen a deer carcass before. "I'm going to check it out!" she declared.

Her friend stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "Are you crazy? That's fucking disgusting, Beth! I am not going over there! I am not getting within ten feet of that!" she wrinkled her nose. "I bet it stinks, too."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Fine, then don't." she said simply. "In fact, I see where we came into the forest. You can go ahead."

"I sure will." Emily skipped ahead, her brown hair bouncing on her shoulders. Annabeth, for her part, stepped carefully over to the deer carcass, taking in the limp form and the flies buzzing around its eyes. It must have not been dead for very long, because she could see no visible signs of decay and there wasn't a terrible smell like she'd expected. In addition, cause of death probably had been old age or disease, because there was no blood. The antlers on its head and its rather bulky physique signified the deer as a buck.

Annabeth stared at the buck's empty black eyes that seemed to look straight through her. She shuddered, suddenly unsettled. Was this what her mother's eyes had looked like when she'd died? So...so vacant and soulless?

 _Why am I looking at this?_ Annabeth tore her eyes from the - to her slight horror - admittedly fascinating carcass and spun around, hurling towards the break in the trees. Emily should be waiting up ahead there.

"Em!" she called as she neared the clearing. "I'm coming back!" Reaching the break in the trees, the teen looked around, but saw no sign of her friend. "Emily?" she called. "Where are you?"

Still no response. _Oh, so you want to play a game, huh?_ Annabeth thought with a smile. _Alright then._

"Fine then! I'll come find you!" she declared. Where could Em be hiding? Hmm...Maybe in the nearby bushes? She checked, but no one was there. _Figures. Em wouldn't be that stupid._

Hearing a crackle of shrubbery off to her left, Annabeth whipped and saw a flash of movement in it. She whipped around and ran towards the vegetation. Her feet pounded against the grass as she reached the brush, reached out, and parted its branches, expecting to see Emily huddled in it, laughing as she was discovered.

Nothing.

 _Oh, God damn it._ Annabeth groaned to herself. She'd been fully expecting to see her friend hiding there, but there was absolutely nothing, save for a few creepy crawlers that scuttled about as the light hit them. The teenager wrinkled her nose in disgust, tensing her muscles to turn around and continue her search.

 _Danger,_ said her instincts.

 _"I missed you, dollface."_

That voice.

 _Dollface._

There was only one person it could be.

Annabeth spun around to find herself staring into icy cerulean orbs, her own gray eyes taking in the burned remains of eyelids, the unnaturally pale skin, singed, choppy black hair, Cheshire cat smile, and just the disturbing _attractiveness_ of his features.

Jeff the Killer.

With a shriek, the girl half-leaped, half-stumbled backwards, tripping over the bushes and falling head-over-heels onto the muddy ground.

Jeff giggled, his grin widening until it literally almost stretched from ear to ear. "Really, how clumsy of you, _princess."_ he laughed.

Ignoring the jibe, Annabeth leaped to her feet, her hand going to the pencil she'd always kept with her since her first encounter with this asshole. Then her eyes traveled down to his side and widened in rage, loathing, and fear.

Emily's green eyes, large and haunted, stared back at her. Jeff had his toned arm around her throat, not enough to choke her, but enough to keep her body pinned against his, preventing her from escaping. Held a mere centimeter over Emily's cheek was a gleaming kitchen knife, it's blade blood-splattered but looking razor sharp. Noticing Annabeth's expression filled with restrained hate, the killer's grin widened so much that she briefly wondered if his face was going to split in half. Not that she would've minded it. In fact, she wished it'd happen.

Sadly, no such luck. When was there ever "suck luck" when it came to Annabeth and this bloodthirsty fucker?

"What the fuck are you doing with Emily?" Annabeth hissed, refraining form throwing herself at the killer and trying to bash his brains out with her bare hands. It wouldn't work, and they both - no, all three of them - knew it.

Jeff laughed as she glared at him. "Well, you see, doll, you've been a bit too stubborn for my liking - always mouthing off at me and resisting my charms. And while I find it adorable that you think you can possibly win over me, it gets a little tiresome. So I've decided to provide you a little...incentive to make you behave." he gestured gleefully to Emily.

Annabeth snarled. "What the fuck do you want, asshole?"

"I'm surprised you haven't put it together yet, sweetcheeks. You're smart, aren't you?"

The girl clenched her fists. "Get to the damn point, for shit's sake."

"That's no fun, babe." Jeff grumbled. "Fine, fine. See, I'm offering you two choices here, dollface."

Annabeth narrowed her eyes. She was afraid she already knew what those two choices were. _Please, God, let me be wrong..._

"Come with me and I'll spare this poor little girl's life," Jeff purred.

"Or resist, and she dies. Her blood will be on your hands."

 _No..._

"Well, doll. Make your choice, why don't you?"

 _It can't be..._

"You have five minutes. If you don't choose, her head will fly, _and_ you'll be mine."

How was that? Was it good? Bad?

I think the latter. AAAAHHHH! XD

Thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you guys again soon!


	10. Chapter 9

_What do I do?_

"Tick, tock, tick, tock. " Jeff intoned smoothly, making Annabeth want to punch him.

"I - I..." she faltered. "I wi...will..."

"Y-you wi-will wh-wh - at?" Jeff mocked. "Speak up, doll. I hate stuttering, especially when it's coming from you. You sound like that ticking motherfucker."

 _Ticking motherfucker?_ Annabeth wondered, perplexed.

"No, Beth," Emily breathed, startling Annabeth and even Jeff bu the surprised look on his face. "You can't go with him. You know - you know that. Just let him...just let him kill me."

Annabeth clenched her fists. "Em...what are you saying?" she whispered. "You know that I...that I...I can't...do that."

"Awww, how touching." Jeff cooed.

Emily completely ignored the serial killer. "What about me?" she smiled. "I wouldn't be able to live if you went with... _him_ to save me. Just...it's okay. It's okay, Annabeth."

Annabeth felt her eyes grow misty until her eyes couldn't take any more moisture and the tears leaked down her face. Emily was willing to sacrifice her own life for her. She knew she'd never have and could never ask for a better friend.

The blonde smiled sadly. "Thank you, Emily. But he'd probably take me anyway. It's...it's better that..."

"No!" Emily cried. "Beth, you can't. You can't go with him. I won't allow it."

"I'm sorry,' Annabeth murmured. "I'm sorry for doing this." she noticed Jeff's grin widening. He knew - he knew what Annabeth was about to do.

"But you can't!" the brunette wailed. She began to struggle violently against Jeff with such desperation that even the human killer had trouble restraining her. "You can't do that, Beth! Only God knows what he'll do to you! Don't do it!"

"Hold still, bitch!" Jeff snarled.

Emily paid no heed to him. "Don't!" she was practically screaming by now, and Annabeth winced. "Do you understand me, Annabeth Blackburn? Don't you dare agreeing to go with this fucker! _Don't you dare!"_

To Annabeth's horror, Jeff's pupils began to dilate until they were mere specks in the very middle of his eyes. The whites shone through like pearls - very, somehow creepy pearls. "I'm warning you for the last time, you little slut! Shut your fucking mouth and stop struggling!"

Emily did no such thing. As a matter of fact, she began to kick and thrash like a wild animal. "Don't listen to this psycho bastard! Don't go anywhere with him! Let him kill me!"

"Emily, stop it!" Annabeth shrieked, her eyes on Jeff, who was growing increasingly pissed off and sporadic. "He's having a fit! Calm down, or he'll kill you!"

 _"Let him kill me!"_ Emily screeched. " That way he won't have any advantage against you!"

"No!" the blonde exclaimed, half-shocked, half-panicked. "Emily, _stop it!"_

"Listen to your friend." Jeff breathed, his voice impossibly deadly and low. "Or you'll be in trouble."

 _"DO IT THEN!"_ Emily's eyes were wild, her once flawless hair appearing tangled and matted. " _Kill me, you asshole! DO IT! I DARE YOU!"_

"NO!" Annabeth screamed. "Jeff, don't - "

"You want to die?" Jeff snarled in that same voice.

Time seemed to pause for a the blink of an eyes.

Or perhaps...

It was the lifetime of an age.

 _"THEN DIE, BITCH!"_

Jeff raised his knife, eyes wild and crazed, pupils dilated to tiny, barely visible black holes. He brought his knife arm down -

" _STOP!"_

The cry that shattered the air was so intense, so potent, so _desperate,_ that everything around the area seemed to freeze. Birds stopped chirping, and the sounds of forest wildlife faded away. Even Jeff froze, though his face was saturated with maniacal glee.

"I..." Annabeth breathed. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins, making her dig her nails into her palms to stop from shaking in pain, fear, and apprehension. Maybe pure incredulity that she was actually about to let these words escape her mouth.

"I...I'll go with you." she whispered. "I'll go with you." she repeated in a stronger voice, and she snapped her head up to glare at Jeff ferociously. The loathing in her eyes only made the killer grin. "Just don't hurt Emily."

"No." Emily whispered.

Then she collapsed against Jeff, who dropped her body and let it slump onto the grassy floor.

Silence and stillness saturated the air.

A giggle resounded through it.

Annabeth shivered.

"Haha..." he laughed. "Hahaha...ahahahahahahaha...HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The girl was at loss what to do. This insane fucker was...

He was...

The killer's hands were tensed, fingers twisted at odd angles. His face was turned toward the darkening sky as his shoulders and torso shook violently from his laughing fit. The maniacal chortles seemed to pierce the air, sky, and ground all around them.

 _"Finally!"_ Jeff howled. "You _finally_ admit that you're mine! That you belong to me! You've finally acknowledged it, doll!" Without listening for a response, he kept cackling until the most horrible, inhuman, deranged, _unholy_ scream Annabeth had ever heard.

It chilled her to the core.

 _This...this bastard is..._

Abruptly, Jeff's control came back to him and he was looking at Annabeth silently, with a deadly glint in his eyes. She took a nervous step back, narrowing her own eyes, her fingers tightening around the pencil she kept with her.

"Well then, dollface ~" Jeff purred, licking his lips in a very disturbing way. Almost like a gentleman, he extended his hand toward her, fingers open and inviting her to take them. Annabeth stared at the hand, her mind racing at a million hours per hour. She'd agreed to go with him, yes, but her brain was still doing everything it could to prevent such an outcome. It kept popping up with ways to attack Jeff and run, or just flat out flee on the spot.

 _Shove him while you have the element of surprise._

 _Stab his hand and get the hell out of there._

 _Run._

But then Emily would be left alone. And there was no telling what the killer would do to her just to punish Annabeth for not keeping her end of the bargain.

 _What do I do? What can I do? Mother...please help me._

But she knew that her prayers would be for nothing.

This was not for her mother to decide.

This was her choice alone.

And...

Annabeth gritted her teeth.

 _If this saves Emily..._

 _I will..._

She reached forward...

 _And took Jeff's hand._

The moment she did, the killer tightened his fingers painfully around her hand and yanked her into him. Annabeth found herself sprawled against the killer's toned chest. If it was her father or one of her few friends, she might've closed her eyes and relaxed in the warmth of their body.

But not with Jeff.

In fact, she'd never been so tense.

Her brain catching up, Annabeth planted her hands against Jeff's shoulders, ready to shove him away or push herself off him, but then she felt a dull, hard pain at the back of her head.

All she could manage was a breathy gasp.

And then everything went black as she collapsed against Jeff's body.

The last thing she saw was his malicious smile.

So...Jeff finally got Annabeth.

Congrats, Jeff.

I think if this chapter was not my best. I've been reading over it, and it seems kind of forced or rushed. So sorry!

Thank you for reading, and I'll see you guys soon!


	11. Chapter 10

(Jeff's POV)

A chuckle - probably around the fifteenth - escaped my throat as my eyes roved over the girl lying slumped on my bed for the millionth time. I couldn't get enough of looking at her - she was purely _addictive._ This was only made stronger by the fact that she was now _mine._

I liked the sound of that.

 _Mine._

 _Mine._

 _Mine._

 _You're mine, Annabeth Blackburn._

 _Ugh..._

Annabeth tried to force her eyes to open, but as she attempted it, an insane headache seemed to be threatening to split her head open. Surrendering to the pain, she briefly ceased her attempts before trying again. After a whole lot of pain, she managed to crack them open, only to have them flutter shut again.

 _Goddamn it._

Cue attempt after attempt after attempt...after attempt.

Finally, _finally_ (it felt like a millennium had passed), the teen got her eye muscles to obey her and open.

 _Where..._. The world blurred for a second before coming into focus, and Annabeth realized that she was staring up at a ceiling that was most certainly not her own.

 _Emily...then Jeff..._

 _That's right!_

Everything flooding back to her in a torrent of memories, Annabeth sat bolt upright. Once again, she probably looked like a zombie, but that was the very, very least of her worries. She was in a twin disheveled bed with coarse black sheets. The fabric of the blankets scratches against her arms, and she wondered how anyone could bear to sleep on this.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty ~" cooed an all-too-familiar voice.

With a mental scream of horror, frustration, and just "this is bullshit", Annabeth swiveled her head eighty-one degrees to the left. Her eyes fell on the last person she wanted to see - her most hated enemy.

 _Jeff the Killer._

Though he was difficult to make out in the dim moonlight streaming through the window, Annabeth didn't need to see his face. She'd already memorized every inch of it because it'd popped up so many fucking times in her head.

She wanted to say something, _anything_ to show that she wasn't afraid, but nothing came to her. _I'm not afraid of you? You won't get away with this? Let me go or I'll kill you?_

They would all be lies, and Jeff knew that. She despised him all the more for it.

The best she could come up with was a half-whisper, half-snarl. "Jeff."

The killer raised his eyebrows and smirked. "That's me, doll."

Annabeth ground her back teeth together, fighting the urge to punch that arrogant look on his face. _Calm down, Annabeth. Calm. Down._

Managing to restrain herself, she spat out, "What the fuck do you want?"

Silence.

Jeff lowered his head, the strands of his charred black hair shielding his icy eyes from view. Annabeth narrowed her eyes. Was this his latest trick? No...she'd seen this somewhere before...

His broad shoulders started shaking erratically, making the chair he was slumped casually in rock violently. It's unsteady legs creaked in protest against the hard floor, but no one alive in the room noticed it, the killer too busy having his fit, and the victim too busy watching said fit.

A mad giggled split the air in the room, seeming to drop the temperature about a hundred degrees, though no thermometer could have detected it. The change wasn't real - it was all in Annabeth's head. Nevertheless, goosebumps broke over her skin, making her shiver. His laugh was so...

So...

The chuckle grew in volume and strength until it had evolved into a unbalanced, deranged, _manic_ laugh. "What do I want?" Jeff giggled. _"What do I want?_ I'm disappointed, sweetcheeks. I thought you were smarter than this. Obviously, what I want is..." he trailed off, letting the suspense, the anticipation, the apprehension grow tense, painful, _agonizing._ At least to the girl. The killer was basking in it.

 _"You."_

I apologize for how short the chapter is. I would've extended it, but I haven't updated in a while, and I didn't have much time to write (or type). This seemed like a pretty good ending point, so, yeah.

As usual, thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys soon!

P.S.

Peace! XD


	12. Chapter 11

_It's cold._

Annabeth curled up on the scraggly bed, her body tucked into the drafty corner. Not that there was anywhere in this hell that was truly _warm,_ but the corner took the cake. _Honestly,_ the teen thought in irritation, _There has to be some hole in the wall, damn it. It's too cold here._

Unfortunately, it was the farthest place she could be from the asshole that had brought her here.

Jeff the Killer.

He was sprawled rudely all over the bed, snoring loudly, much to Annabeth's vexation. Trying to avoid getting anywhere near him, she pressed herself harder against the wall, studying his still form warily. To her amusement, he was wearing a sleeping mask, as he probably couldn't sleep without it, considering he had no eyelids. Or maybe he didn't need it - maybe it was just for intimidation, because the mask seemed to be personalized to Jeff's preference. Annabeth could only imagine what he did the frequent times he left the room to go do his "hobby", but none of the thoughts were pleasant. Whatever the case, Jeff always came back with a satisfied glint in his eyes, his white hoodie stained with fresh blood after a nice relaxing day of killing people and listening to them scream.

 _Serves you right, you bastard._ Annabeth thought hatefully. She wanted to take his own knife and stab his eyes out, slice him to pieces, slit his throat, _anything,_ but of course he just had to be invulnerable, didn't he?

 _Damn it all._

With a sigh, the girl averted her eyes from her kidnapper, not wanting to look at him for any longer, and instead studied the dark room. Her eyes had long since adjusted as much as it would to the lack of light, and she could make out most of its features, including a small, creaky shelf in the opposite corner from the bed. On it were several objects, all covered by a dusty black curtain. What were they?

Curious, Annabeth unsteadily got to her feet, careful not to wake Jeff, and tottered over to the shelf, taking a deep breath as she reached it. Did she really want to see what lay beneath the fabric? What if it was dismembered human remains or bleached white bones? What if it was torture devices of all shapes and sizes that Jeff was going to use to painfully kill her with?

Gathering her wits, Annabeth grasped the tarp and lifted it off, squinting her eyes to see discern what she was seeing.

What her brain processed made her freeze.

Pictures.

There were four pictures (one, two, three, four), their frames covered in dust, as well as a crinkled, brittle-looking scrap of paper than contained only three words.

 _I'm sorry, Liu._

Three words.

Just three words, and yet, even without a voice to speak them, they seemed to be saturated with pain and regret to the very brim.

 _Did Jeff...?_

The thought, to Annabeth, seemed too implausible for words. Was Jeff _sorry_ for killing his brother? Did he _regret_ it? Then why the hell had he killed Liu in the first place, anyway? And how could an insane, maniacal killer like him feel anything like guilt, regret, or remorse, anyway?

Then again, his reaction when she'd brought up Liu...

 _"What the fuck are you doing?"_

Nearly jumping ten feet into the air, Annabeth whipped around. Jeff was sitting up in bed, face mask off and glaring at her with his blue eyes. They searched her face for a moment before trailing over to the shelf and the uncovered pictures. The second he saw them, rage filled his eyes, making Annabeth step back slightly in alarm. However, beneath them was some underlying emotion that vanished into his fury before she had a chance to identify it.

Jeff stood up sharply, stomping over to Annabeth and grabbing her roughly by the arm, so hard that she was afraid her wrist would break straight in half. A hiss escaped her lips as Jeff lowered his head - considerably higher than her own - down to face her, nose to nose. "You shouldn't stick your face where it doesn't belong, doll." he snarled.

For once, Annabeth had no valid argument, because she _had_ been snooping. In normal terms, at least.

But this situation wasn't _normal._ Jeff had kidnapped her and was holding her in this shithole against her will, for fuck's sake. As far as Annabeth was concerned, if he was angered by her snooping, then she had the right to be going full-blown Rena Ryuugu on his ass.

"Too bad." she spat at him. " _You_ brought me here. _You're_ the one holding me in this damned place. So if you don't like me looking through your stuff that you're hiding like a master criminal," the teen continued sarcastically, "then you can go fuck yourself."

Jeff chuckled, making the girl in his grasp shudder slightly and narrow her gray eyes. "I'll pass on fucking myself, doll. I may fuck something...or _someone_ else pretty soon, though."

The implications crystal clear, Annabeth's eyes snapped fully open in complete revulsion. "Go to hell, you piece of shit." she retorted. "I would rather die than be touched like that by you."

"Always so fiery." the killer smirked. Unexpectedly, he leaned in so their lips were almost touching. His tongue slithered out and mad contact with her cheek, making Annabeth snarl in disgust and shove him away. Or at least, she tried to, but he was far taller than her and built like a damn mountain. Instead of pushing the killer anywhere, she found herself beating his chest with her palms as he looked on, amused.

Little squeaks of rage were escaping Annabeth's lips, making her laugh at her mentally at her own self for sounding so pathetic and helpless. Jeff simply stood and let her continue her charade, his shoulders shaking with laughter at her feeble attempts.

"Jeff."

Both of them stiffened at a voice outside the bedroom door. It was unfamiliar to Annabeth, but Jeff clearly knew it and didn't have the fondest feelings for its owner, considering the irritated groan he let out as he turned away and stomped toward the door. He stopped in front of it and spat out, "The fuck do you want, Masky?"

The girl's eyes widened. _Masky._ Wasn't he...the head proxy for Slenderman, or some shit like that? Not that Annabeth cared. As long as he stayed away from her, and her friends and family, she didn't have a problem.

"The master wants to see you."

There was palpable defiance in Jeff's voice as he responded. "I'm busy."

A snort from the other side of the door. "You can fuck the girl later. Right now, _he_ wants to see you, and he wants you to bring her."

Something inside Annabeth snapped. She didn't know who this _he_ was, but she didn't care. Masky's lewd comment about Jeff _fucking_ her had already set her off, and now he was saying there was this other asshole, the master, that was probably the worst out of all of them, which was saying a lot, considering she was in a mansion with a bunch of fucked-up-in-the-head psychopaths.

"Excuse me?" she spat, storming over to the door, wrenching Jeff's hand from the knob, and opening it herself. "Wait - " Jeff started, but Annabeth wouldn't have listened anyway.

Standing there was a tall man \- not quite as tall as Jeff, but a considerable bit taller than Annabeth, his face covered by a white mask that appeared to have feminize features. Over his muscular torso was a yellow hoodie, which made the girl scoff. Black or red or maybe melancholy blue for my-life-sucks, but _yellow?_ It was the color of happiness, for God's sake, and this man looked anything but happy.

All this flashed through Annabeth's mind before a stream of words bubbled from her mouth against her better judgement. "I don't know who you think you are or who this _master_ holding your leash is, but that piece of shit is not going to be fucking me, _ever,_ and I'm not going anywhere with you."

A snort of amusement came from Masky as he looked down at her. "Frisky, aren't you?"

"Damn straight. I know you killers are used to _mortals_ screaming and begging for their lives, but let me tell it to your face - I'm not going to lower myself and grovel in front of the likes of _you."_

"Oh?" Annabeth got the feeling Masky was smirking under his mask. "Maybe not us, little girl. But you'll certainly prostrate yourself before the master."

She sneered. "Ever his obedient little lapdogs, aren't you guys?"

Masky's fingers discreetly curved into fists, to Annabeth's surprise. That last insult had been to get under his skin, but had she actually struck a major nerve?

"We're not. His. Lapdogs." Masky spat.

She scoffed derisively. "Right."

Before Masky could reply, someone grabbed Annabeth from behind and yanked her backwards into the room. She didn't have to look to see who it was - it was obviously her knight in shitty armor, Jeff the Killer himself.

Shoving her behind him, Jeff faced Masky. "Fine. Give me five minutes."

His composure regained flawlessly as if it had never broken at all, Masky nodded. "Five minutes." he repeated. "And only five minutes. Any more and I'll barge in and collect her myself, understood?"

Without responding, Jeff slammed the door in Masky's face and turned back to Annabeth, fury glinting in his eyes. "Learn your fucking place here, doll. If you want to survive, you're going to have to practice some manners. I find your little temper cute, but even I have limits. And those other guys? They won't hesitate for a shit's worth to kill you. _Painfully._ Do you fucking understand?"

Annabeth glared at him. "What the hell is it to you?" she retorted sharply. "You're the one who's kidnapped me and has me locked in here, damn it. It's not like you care about my wellbeing!"

Jeff laughed, the sound raspy and unbalanced. _Insane._ "Of course fucking not." he said. "The only reason I'm telling you to watch it is because _you're mine._ You belong to me, so I'm the one, and the only one, who's going to kill you in the end, got it?"

Without responding, Annabeth spun away, not wanting to keep her eyes on the filth any longer. Just how sick was he? Telling her to be careful and not get killed only so that he could get to kill her later himself - what the heck was that? It was bullshit. Utter, complete trash. Then again, what had she expected? He was a _killer,_ after all. Bullshit was probably his specialty.

"Don't. Fucking. Ignore. Me." Jeff's hand shot out to grasp her arm, making Annabeth wince. _"Do you understand what I just said,_ sweetcheeks?"

Jerking back towards him, Annabeth wrenched her arm out of his grasp, ignoring the stinging pain. "Don't touch me." she snapped and turned her back before he could respond. She braced herself for another one of his ridiculously tight arm-squeezing sessions, or maybe a full-blown fit - who knew with this guy - but what he did caught her off guard even more than she'd anticipated.

He did absolutely nothing.

Gritting her teeth as tears stung her eyes, Annabeth found herself thinking of Emily and her father. It had been a week since Jeff had brought her here. How would Emily feel? Did Annabeth's father know of her disappearance? Was it going around the news at this very moment, or already declared unsolvable? She had been taken by the invulnerable Creepypastas, after all, and to top it off, _Jeff the Killer._ No one wanted to risk their neck for what seemed like a hopeless cause.

"Get dressed."

Annabeth glanced over her shoulder to find Jeff glaring at her. Averting her eyes, she replied sarcastically, "You have any women's clothes lying around in this dump?"

She'd been expecting a no, or maybe another tantrum for her "insolence", but there was only a moment's silence before the swish of fabric was heard, and a few (just imagine them ripped up and dirty) articles of clothing. Annabeth stooped to pick them up and admitted to herself that they would have been quite nice and pricey before getting all stained with grime. She wasn't sure where Jeff had gotten them, as he couldn't just casually stroll into a store, purchase them, and walk out without causing a scene - _Hey, I know I'm Jeff the Killer, but can I please buy these clothes? Thank you_. She only hoped that they weren't the clothes of some past victim of his.

"Change into these in the bathroom. And move your ass. We have three minutes." Jeff ordered.

For once not arguing, Annabeth stalked sullenly over to the bathroom, opened the door, went inside, closed it, and locked it for extra safety. She didn't trust Jeff.

Once she finished, the teen unlocked the door and stepped out, wishing she had a hair tie. Her blonde hair was an absolute mess - wild, frizzy, tangled, and countless strands hanging in her face. She brushed it back was best as she could.

Jeff smirked as his eyes took her in appreciatively, making Annabeth feel like a lamb being led to slaughter. Maybe she was. "You look hot, babe."

Cringing inwardly, Annabeth ignored the compliment and simply said, "Let's go." She wasn't eager, but whoever this master was didn't seem like the type to be lenient towards disobedience.

Jeff was already at the door, waiting. As she approached, he politely offered his hand. Staring at it, Annabeth realized he'd made the exact same motion when she'd agreed to go with him in exchange for Emily's life. She didn't regret that decision - she just wished the consequences afterwards didn't have to be so dire.

With his hand extended to her, Jeff almost looked like a normal person, a _gentleman,_ if you ignored the cracked, leathery skin, the singed remains of eyelids, the burnt texture of his hair, and that disturbing Cheshire cat grin etched into his face.

Normal...

He once had been. He'd been normal. He'd lived an ordinary life. Those pictures she'd seen proved that he'd had a loving brother - Liu Woods. He'd been _just like her._

What could have possibly turned Jeffrey Woods into the monster, the killer, the psychopath he was today?

Done! Phew - this chapter took me a while to write. Again, I apologize for OOC Jeff and probably OOC Masky. The other Creepypastas will probably be OOC too, considering that it's me writing the story.

But thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys again soon!


	13. Chapter 12

Annabeth stepped back nervously. Even her, who was a human, or a _mere mortal,_ as the Creepypastas liked to put it, could feel the aura on the other side of the plain, moldy door that they stood in front of. It felt...stern, for one thing, but also commanding, terrifying, and _not at all human._

"Is that...on the other side...is that Slenderman?" she whispered.

Masky looked at her sharply. "Don't refer to the master by his name." he ordered. "We simply call him 'Master' in his presence. But you're correct."

Something about his tone warned Annabeth to listen to him. She was reckless, fiery, and not easy to control but she also wasn't stupid. She could tell that whatever this Slenderman was like, he didn't play games.

"What is he?" she asked, valiantly trying to keep her voice from efforts were successful - at least, for now.

Annabeth doubted it would stay that way.

"He is..." Masky hesitated. "It's difficult to explain, little girl. He's not human."

"No shit."

The proxy turned so suddenly and quickly that Annabeth would have barely had time to blink, but Jeff was in front of her in a split second, blocking the pissed-off looking Masky with his own body.

"What's this, Jeff?" Masky hissed, his voice terrifyingly soft. "Growing soft for your little bitch, aren't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Jeff retorted, his tone just as low and deadly. "I'm just..." he chuckled, running his tongue over his lips shamelessly. "...raising the lamb for the slaughter."

With a sneer, Masky turned back around and spoke up, his words directed at Annabeth, calm again. "In any case, watch your mouth with the Master. We might be a little indulgent of your childishness thanks to Romeo over here, but the Master answers to no one. He won't hesitate to kill you, in the most painful way imaginable, if you don't control yourself."

Annabeth didn't respond. She was too busy trying to swallow the lump of emotions in her throat. To be taken from your family and friends was bad enough, but to be taken by these insane, unbalanced killers who tortured and slaughtered and maybe even _raped_ without shame or guilt? Why did it have to be her in this mess? Why?

 _Calm down, Annabeth._ she told herself firmly. _You don't have time to wallow in self-pity. You can make it - don't forget that these guys are just pathetic little sacks of shit who can't resist their own bloodlust. You're stronger than them. You're_ better _than them._

She took a deep breath as Masky put his hand on the knob and turned.

The door squeaked on its ancient, rusty hinges as the man pushed it open and stepped into the darkness inside. Jeff followed without hesitation, only stopping to shoot a glance at Annabeth that she couldn't quite read. A warning, she was sure of it, but _something_ about it just seemed...off.

Shoving the thought to the back of her mind, Annabeth focused on placing one foot in front of the other, fighting to keep herself from screaming in fear and running of. The aura was increasing in magnitude and strength. She felt cowed. Like prey.

And yet, something was inside of her, something that seemed to rise up to challenge the immense energy radiating from the dark room. Something that seemed to be demanding release, demanding freedom.

Okay, she was officially going crazy.

With a sigh of irritation directed at herself, the girl stepped fully into the inky blackness, jumping as the door shut behind her. She wanted to check if it was locked, but common sense told her to keep following Masky and Jeff or she'd get lost in the pitch-dark hellhole. And _that_ was the last thing she needed.

"Doll." Jeff's voice startled Annabeth as he reached out and grabbed her arm roughly. "Don't leave my side, do you fucking hear me? And don't touch any of fuckface's shit, either."

 _Fuckface?_

Masky glared over his shoulder. "You'll address the Master by his proper title, Jeff."

"To hell with that." the smiley killer sneered. "I'm not one of his puppets like you, Masky. I can do whatever I want."

"Oh?" Masky's response was amused. "With the knowledge that he could kill you in a second? That you're nothing without him? That you're nothing _compared to him?"_

"Shut up." there was a dangerous edge to Jeff's voice that made Annabeth's hackles stand on end. However, the unperturbed Masky simply smirked and continued his taunting.

"If the Master hadn't taken you in when you were at your lowest, just think of what pathetic state you'd be in right now, Jeff."

No response. Somehow, the lack of it unnerved Annabeth more.

"You'd probably be running around like one of those _mortal_ criminals, unaware of how to do shit properly. Hell, you might even be rotting in a mental asylum where you belong, wallowing in self-pity."

 _"Shut. Up."_

"Oh yeah, I forgot, _Jeffrey."_ Masky spat, his tone filled with venom and scorn. "You'd probably also be haunted by your _brother_...was his name... _Liu?"_

The breath caught in Annabeth's throat as Jeff, in half a second, sprang into action, his knife glinting in the dark, its blade headed straight for Masky's torso. The masked man was already prepared, his muscles poised to flawlessly dodge the strike, when -

 _Freeze._

Both killers froze.

Annabeth's eyes widened as her brain seemed to lose control of her body, stiffening like a corpse.

The voice just heard did not sound angry, or emotional, of even _human._ There was no feeling in it - it was merely a command that a king gave to his slaves. To his pawns.

But that wasn't what unsettled Annabeth.

What petrified her was that the voice was not physical, not corporeal, not on a logical level. It was in her mind. A different voice, in her fucking mind. Was she becoming schizophrenic? Was the mere week she'd spent in this place enough to start breaking her mind? Would she become a murder like the ones surrounding her?

 _Calm yourself, child. You shall not go insane - not yet._

Annabeth's eyes widened frantically. If the voice had just told her that to reassure her, it was having the opposite of the intended effect. Panic began to seize her body. Now something in her head was telling her to calm down?

There was a flourish of movement next to Annabeth. She glanced over, startled, to find that Masky had sunken to one knee in a position of submission. Shock froze her. The arrogant Masky kneeling to someone? It could only be...

From the darkness, something emerged.

As her brain comprehended what that _something_ was, Annabeth fought back a scream.

It was a tall, skinny man with gray skin and a black suit.

And he was _faceless._

Slenderman turned to face her, and though he had no eyes, Annabeth had never felt more vulnerable in her entire life. It didn't seem like he was just _seeing_ her - it felt like he was _reading_ her. Her life, her character, what she loved, what she hated, what was important to her, what she cared nothing for...everything. There were no secrets.

 _How are you, child?_

That voice.

That voice in her head. It had been Slenderman all along.

 _Correct. It was me._

Annabeth froze. How had he known her thoughts? Could he...could he _read minds?_

 _Indeed I can._

So he could.

Scowling at the sheer unfairness of the situation (Annabeth vs. psycho killers was bad enough, but Annabeth vs. psycho killers + not-human, supernatural powered, mind-reading, ridiculously tall creepy guy = Annabeth's some major shit), Annabeth looked away from Slenderman and clenched her already aching fists.

Slenderman tilted his head at her, looking almost curious. _You are new. Most mortals scream and beg for their lives when in my presence. You merely frown and look away._

"Yeah, well..." Annabeth muttered, "when you're life is anything like mine, _most mortals_ isn't a category you fall under."

 _You believe your life is unfair?_

The teen laughed. "You're supposedly the eons-old Slenderman. I would've thought you'd know - no one's life is really _fair."_

"You little - " Masky hissed with rage and began to surge to his feet, making Jeff tense up. It seemed as though another fight was going to erupt between the two killers, when -

 _Silence._

Masky and Jeff both stopped dead.

 _The child will think you are spoiled. Control yourselves._

Muttering an apology, Masky sunk back down to his knees. Jeff simply growled in defiance, but there was visible fear in his eyes - and it terrified Annabeth. This Slenderman had such power over psychopaths like them. It was clear that he commanded absolute obedience. Was he truly that powerful?

Swallowing down her nerves, Annabeth drew herself up to face Slenderman. "May I ask why you want me?"

The entity turned back to her. _Certainly. I apologize for the inconvenience - my servants can be rather troublesome. You must know that Jeffrey was no the first to have an interest in you - I was. You see, child, there is something about you that rings as not human._

"Yeah, thanks. I've been told that by your lackey here." she jabbed a finger at Jeff.

 _Yes, true. No doubt he is quite surprised by your spirit._ Slenderman replied, ignoring Jeff's pissed snarl. _However, that is not what I am speaking of. I believe you have magical potential._

 _What?_

"M...Magical potential?"

 _Yes._

"But magic doesn't exist."

Slenderman laughed (or mentally laughed, or whatever). _My existence, as well as the existence of these children, are partially due to magic, child. After all, they are not alive, but they are not dead either. Creepypastas are somewhere in-between. They are fueled by dark desires - hate, rage, pain - that was bestowed upon them when they were human. Magic is what keeps their bodies functioning._

"And me...are you saying I'm a _Creepypasta_?" Annabeth choked. The idea was horrifying.

 _No, not quite. You are not a Creepypasta, but you are not exactly human, either. I cannot put my finger on the cause of your power, but you have great potential. There has never been a human in this world with as much raw energy as you._

"Don't tell me to 'be grateful' and we'll get along fine."

 _Indeed. I do not believe this is something you should be glad to possess, child. It is, after all, the reason for my interest in you, and therefore, the reason you are here._

The girl frowned. "I thought...I thought that asshole," she pointed at Jeff rudely, not that she cared, "brought me here."

The entity nodded. _Indeed, he did. However, his obsession with you is only part of the reason._

"I guess the other part is my...magical potential?"

 _Yes. I observed you about two months ago, sensing the stored magic inside of you. After about three weeks of learning of your existence, I informed the children of it. Jeffrey was initially uninterested, but once he laid eyes on you, things changed._

Annabeth snorted bitterly. "Sounds like a fairy tale."

Behind her, Jeff let out a rasping chuckle. "Doll, this is no fairy tale. I'm not Prince Charming who's going to whisk you off your feet and into a whirlwind romance. I intend to _break_ you and make you my personal plaything. That's all."

With a smirk, Annabeth faced him. "I know it's not a fairy tale. Even if you were Prince Charming, I'm not Cinderella, or Snow White, or Rapunzel. I don't need anyone to 'whisk me off my feet'. I'd rather slay my own dragons, you know? I'd rather just rescue myself."

 _Now now, children._

Breaking off their banter at Slenderman's condescending tone, Annabeth spun away, the ends of her messy golden hair slapping Jeff in the face. She drew a little satisfaction from the annoyed grunt that he gave.

"So I have potential. Big deal. I'm guessing the famous Slenderman," Annabeth narrowed her gray eyes. "Hasn't summoned me here just to sit around and look pretty. You want me to do something for you, don't you?"

Behind Slenderman, a deep voice drawled, "She's smart."

"Don't b-be sarcas-s-tic." Another voice responded in a strange twitchy voice, followed by several gruesome popping sounds, as if bones were snapping and cracking. Jeff had mentioned a _ticking motherfucker_...

Annabeth sighed. Maybe she should've been scared, but Slenderman's presence had unnerved her so much that it simply wasn't in her brain capacity at the moment. Basically, her mind was saying, _Sorry, officially out of fear fuel._ "Who the hell is it?" she called out in a weary voice. Hearing the exasperation in her tone, Jeff snickered. "Are we tired, dollface?" he purred.

There was a chuckle, in yet another voice, this one sounding familiar. "She's got spunk."

 _Hoodie. Toby. LJ._ Slenderman's tone (or mental tone) was annoyed. _Now is not the time for foolishness. Our guest will think badly of us._

"Yes, Master. We apologize." came the deep voice again. There was a soft pattering of several footsteps before three men emerged from the blackness. One was tall, about Jeff's height, with a yellow hoodie with its hood pulled up and plain blue jeans (Seriously, what was the deal with yellow?). He might've passed off as an ordinary guy if not for the fact that instead of seeing a normal face in the hood, there was a vaguely face-shaped black blob and glowing red eyes. Completely red - no pupils, no irises, _nothing._ In place of a mouth, there was a red line, curved downwards. In other words, Annabeth thought, this guy was a hypocrite for wearing yellow while looking grumpy as all hell.

The second man was about Masky's height, with a brown shirt that had stripes on the sleeves. A blue hood was pulled over his head, but his tousled brown hair was still visible under it. Like the first man, he was wearing blue jeans. His skin seemed unnaturally pale, like Jeff's, but his features were less distinguishable considering the thick yellow goggles and the metal mouth guard. Strangest of all, he was shaking and twitching like his fingers were permanently stuck in on electric socket, a loud snapping sound accompanying each twitch. He was the Creepyasta with tourette's syndrome. She couldn't remember his name, but she did remember that he was one of the most unstable Creepypastas out there.

The third man was familiar to Annabeth - a monochromatic clown with shoulder-length, choppy black hair, a white-and black striped cone nose and sleeves. Like when she'd first encountered him, he had disturbingly long arms and was about 6'9. _Laughing Jack._

 _How many fucking killers is that?_ Annabeth wondered. _Let's see...Jeff the Asshole, Masky the Lapdog, Slenderman the Creepy, Hypocrite-With-Yellow-Hoodie, Twitchy the Weird, and Laughing Jack the Ridiculous. That's six psychopaths._

 _Great. I'm having so much fun._

Whew, this one was long! It took me so much time to write because I was at loss what to do. Keep in mind that the whole magic thing is just my idea for the story, and the Creepypastas' heights also seem to vary with each fanfic, so I just chose my own. In future chapters, probably soon, this magic thing will be explained.

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys soon!


	14. Chapter 13

_Child, please meet my proxies._ Slenderman intoned. _Hoodie,_ he said, gesturing to the first man, _and_ _Toby._ This time he pointed at the second man. _And of course, you already know Masky._  
"Aww, come on. What about me, the best clown in the world?" Laughing Jack whined, sounding like a petulant child, Annabeth noted in disgust.  
 _The girl is correct, LJ. You do sound like a petulant child._ the faceless entity quoted. The teen groaned inwardly. _Shit, I forgot about his psychic powers._  
Her eyes went to LJ, studying him warily. She'd seen him before, of course, but back then, everything had happened so fast that she really hadn't had time to sit back and absorb the details. This time she did, so why not take the chance? Despite this, she saw nothing new about the monochrome clown, except that he seemed to have a constant energy, like a child, but more creepy.  
"I didn't catch your name, little lady ~" LJ cooed. Annabeth narrowed her eyes. She wasn't sure whether to give it to him, but, she reasoned as she examined the situation, there was really nothing bad that could come of it. It wasn't like her name had some sort of binding power over her, like it did in the fantasy books.  
"It's Annabeth." the girl replied after a bit of consideration.  
LJ giggled. "Well, it's a pleasure to be properly introduced to you, Miss Annabeth."  
"Sorry, but the feeling is not mutual." Annabeth deadpanned. Behind her, Jeff snickered. LJ pouted, but he didn't look particularly offended- just amused, like, _Did this little human girl just say that to me?_ She supposed all Creepypastas felt that way. After all, to them, humans were nothing more than just playthings to toy with and to _own_ and to kill on a whim. And that in itself was utterly _disgusting._  
"Again," Annabeth said in exasperation, turning to Slenderman, "Can I ask why I'm here?" she just wanted to get the damn thing over with, whatever it was.  
 _Child, do you know Zalgo?_  
Annabeth blinked. _Zalgo...that "King of the Underworld", or some shit?_  
 _Correct._ Slenderman replied, not realizing that Annabeth hadn't intended to project the question into his mind for him to answer it. Or maybe he knew, and just didn't care. _He and I do not...get along. He is my main rival, and the only being who is my equal in power. Of course, with the exception of "them"._  
"Who the fuck is 'them'?" the teenager snarled irritably.  
 _I will have Jeff fill you in on that in private._ Slenderman responded.  
"Why the fuck does it have to be me?" Jeff complained. "Why not Masky, or Hoodie, or even EJ? Why - "  
 _Do you have an issue, Jeffrey?_ Suddenly, abruptly, the aura around Slenderman was no longer calm and placid. It wasn't quite seething with rage like Jeff, but there was something dangerous underlying its surface. Like the sky on the brink of a thunderstorm. Jeff's protests instantly died down, and he muttered, "No."  
 _I thought not._  
Annabeth narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. She had never seen Jeff defer so quickly to anyone, and by his argumentative attitude and his gracious nickname for Slenderman - fuckface - it was clear that he didn't do it out of respect. He did it out of _fear._ And anyone frightening enough to scare Jeff was one serious thing. And that was putting it lightly.  
 _Anyway, as I was trying to say,_ Slenderman continued. _Zalgo is my main rival. "They" generally leave me in peace, but he's been constantly hounding me and threatening to get in my way. I cannot overlook him any longer._  
The teen tilted her head. "And what do you want me to do?"  
Reaching into the pocket of his immaculate suit, Slenderman withdrew a small, empty glass bottle and held it out to her. Blinking, Annabeth took it, but the second her hand connected with the clear object, she yanked it back as something akin to an electric shock pulsed up her arm. "What the..."  
 _Yes. You sense the bottle's energy, do you not?_ the faceless entity nodded at her reaction. _Only those with magical potential are capable of that. For example, Masky -_ he handed the bottle to the masked man, who took it without any sort of reaction. _Do you see?_  
"Yes. But what does this have to do with Zalgo?"  
Taking the bottle back from Masky, Slenderman offered it to Annabeth once more. She took it, this time more gingerly. _Seeing as you have so much raw energy, I have decided that you will be the one to complete - or at least attempt to complete a task for me._  
Though she didn't know why, Annabeth was getting some serious negative vibes from the whole situation. She contemplated running away screaming, but vetoed to idea as she'd probably get caught in about three seconds. Instead, she muttered, wondering if she way crazy for asking, "What task?"  
 _I want you to seal Zalgo into this bottle._  
It took a second for the words to sink in. When they did, Annabeth almost laughed, but bit it back down as she didn't think it would be taken kindly, "You want me to do _what?"_ she spluttered.  
 _I believe you heard me._  
The girl stared down at the bottle in her hand. Slenderman's tone was so damn calm, like the request he'd given her was perfectly doable. _It wasn't._ She was a fucking _fifteen year old girl._ Well, soon to turn sixteen, but it hardly mattered. Annabeth didn't know much about Creepypasta or the "laws of the universe", and she'd never cared to, but she was pretty sure that fifteen-almost-sixteen-year old girls weren't meant to take down the Lord of the Underworld. It was ridiculous. It was _impossible._  
"What if I refuse?" Annabeth asked. Though her voice was steady enough, she was terrified of hearing the answer, and she'd wager that all the psychos gathered around her could tell.  
 _Why, I am sure you know._ Slenderman responded pleasantly. _I will kill you. Or rather, since Jeffrey is so infatuated with you, I will order him to kill you._  
Behind Annabeth, said male gave a raspy chuckle, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "I'd _love_ to. But before that I'd let myself have some….. _fun_ with you."  
The implications quite obvious, Annabeth, though horror-stricken inside, simply scowled and pushed Jeff away, planting her palm on his face and savoring his grunt of annoyance.  
 _However, child,_ Slenderman continued casually, _before I order your death, I will have these children,_ he gestured to Masky, Hoodie, Toby, Laughing Jack, and Jeff, _kill your sweet little best friend Emily and your father._  
As the threat sunk it, Annabeth's gray eyes snapped wide open to their full extent. Thinking back on it, it was the most dumbass move she'd ever made in her life, but at that moment, it barely mattered and barely registered how stupid she was being. This fucker was threatening the only two people who she had left in life, and that was not okay with her. Emily, who'd bravely screamed at Jeff to kill her for Annabeth's sake, and her father, who, despite his stern demeanor and strict attitude, was the person who'd raised her since she was seven.  
Shrieking like a banshee, the teenager tensed her muscles and leaped straight at Slenderman.  
 _Sssssssssssssss._  
Annabeth froze in midair, muscles tightening, initially from shock at the strange sound resembling static, but a second later, world-splitting pain ripped through the nerves of her brain, and she collapsed to the ground, clutching her ears. However, the sound got no less intense, and she realized it was in her head.  
The agony was blinding. The girl's vision was rippling and going fuzzy, and her head was screaming bloody murder. So absorbed was she in her pain, that she didn't notice Slenderman take a menacing step towards her until he lessened the static by a marginal amount and spoke in her head.  
 _You see, you are powerless to stop me._  
Tears forming in her eyes from the effort, Annabeth glared up at him, trying to shove aside the torture she was going through. "Even if you are…..immortal." she spat. "If you hurt….Emily…..or my dad…I'll find a way…to kill you."  
At her declaration, mocking laughter reverberated from all around Annabeth. She didn't have to use her eyes to know who was laughing. It was the Creepypastas – Masky, Hoodie, Toby, LJ, and Jeff.  
But were those….different voices? They were unfamiliar.  
As these thoughts hit her, Annabeth also realized that the static had stopped. Carefully for fear of triggering more agony, the teen forced herself to stand.  
Then there was a blow on the joints of her legs, and Annabeth found herself back on the ground on her knees, her left cheek pressed against the cold, hard floor. Something was pressed against her back and another thing across her shoulder blades, pinning her body.  
"You look delicious." A voice that the girl had never heard, though she could tell it was male, crooned in her ear. She wasn't sure what was more terrifying – the speaker's tone, or his words. Not many people had told her that she looked delicious, but Annabeth was positive that it wasn't meant to be flattery. He (whoever the hell "he" was) meant it literally – that she'd probably taste good.  
Not okay with the situation, Annabeth began to thrash wildly before realizing that she wasn't making any progress and was simply making herself look desperate and crazed. Stitching her composure back together, the girl gathered all her strength and rolled over, using her hands to push her body over. Before whoever was pinning her could react, Annabeth tucked her feet against his chest, not bothering to try to take a good look at him, and shoved him off with strength fueled by anger and desperation. Her push was full of such force that the guy stumbled backwards for a second.  
Leaping to her feet before anyone decided to jump her again, Annabeth glared at the man who'd pinned her down. He was about 5'11, with tousled auburn hair and gray skin. He wore a gray-black hoodie that covered his lanky torso and black jeans. A blue mask was over his face, but the most disturbing part was that he had no eyes. And it wasn't like Jeff, who had no eyelids but still had eyeballs. This guy literally had no eyeballs, just empty sockets. Adding to the creepiness, there was a thick black liquid, like tar, oozing from the hollows.  
"Um…." Annabeth muttered, dumbfounded. The man gave a humorless chuckle. "Um?" he repeated. "That's not normally what people say to me."  
"Well, this shit isn't normal," the teen snapped back at him. Before the guy could respond, Jeff shoved him aside, looking pissed. "Fuck off, EJ." He growled. EJ could have smirked under his mask from the amused note in his voice. "Jealous, Jeff?"  
 _Child, this is Eyeless Jack, more commonly known as EJ._ Slenderman informed Annabeth as if he hadn't just sent her to the ground in a fit of pain.  
"Great." the girl muttered as Eyeless Jack turned to her. "Not nice to meet you."  
"You've got spunk."  
"I've been told that."  
 _Back to the matter at hand._ The faceless entity declared, silencing the bickering between EJ and Jeff. All of the Creepypastas, including the newcomer, turned to Annabeth expectantly.  
 _What is your answer, child?_  
Annabeth hesitated.  
Volunteer for this suicide mission, and protect Emily and her father.  
Be smart and call out the bullshit of the mission, and get Emily and her father killed.  
And yet, Annabeth knew there was really only one choice for someone like her. She would never allow any harm to come to them – they were all that she had left.  
"If I do this….." the girl asked hesitantly. "…what do I get?"  
Slenderman waved his hand dismissively. _I will release you back to your normal life._  
Her eyes widened. "You will? And what about my friends and my dad?"  
 _They will be left alone._  
"But – " Jeff spoke up, but he didn't get far.  
 _Silence, Jeffrey._  
Like a flash, Jeff shut his trap, making Annabeth, despite the shit going down, giggle quietly to herself.  
Then she returned her focus to the dilemma at hand. If she did this, she would get everything back. She could return to her biggest worries being school, not about how she was going to die at the hands of undead psychopaths. Admittedly, the mission was next to impossible, but at least she'd be trying. At least she'd be fighting, even if she met her end. And she'd be damned if she let _anything_ happen to Emily of her father.  
 _"…I'll do it."_

_ ___

So looks like Annabeth agreed to the mission. I know this chapter was long, sorry about that.  
Thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys soon!


	15. Chapter 14

Okay, so I know I haven't updated in a while. I'M SO SORRY! I had school and tests and projects and...well, you get the idea. Please don't hate me.

_

 _Defeat and seal Zalgo._  
Slenderman's words, his request, or rather, his ultimatum, rang through Annabeth's head, rebounding off the sides of her skull. She gave a faint sigh of irritation, too tired to growl or curse like she normally did, as she sat on Jeff's bed and tried to get a hold of herself and the situation and the sheer unfairness of it all.  
Honestly, how the fuck did the faceless entity – how did anyone – expect her to somehow defeat and seal Zalgo? It was obviously something even the Creepypastas were unable to do, as none of them had attempted it because it would be a fool's errand (at least according to Slenderman).  
 _Why did I say yes?_ Annabeth bemoaned, mentally slapping herself for her utter stupidity. The success of this mission was about, she estimated, 2%. Nah….less. She was only a fifteen year old teenage girl, for crying out loud. And now she was expected to seal away this eons-old demon-god-entity-being thingy that she knew virtually nothing about. Not even Slenderman had known adequate information about Zalgo – just that he was the Ruler of the Underworld, and very, very powerful.  
Very.  
And that was saying a lot. Slenderman was so powerful that the Creepypastas obeyed him (some against their will, *cough* Jeff *cough*), but not even he could face Zalgo and guarantee victory. So the cowardly bastard had dumped the duty on her because of her "magical potential".  
 _What fucking magical potential?_ Annabeth wondered furiously. If she had magical potential, her mother might still be alive. Annabeth might not be in this situation in the first place, forced to take on an impossible task because some supernatural being had threatened the only two people she had left, Emily and her father.  
Speaking of them, were they okay? How was Emily feeling about her abduction? Did her father know? Did he even care?  
Reaching into her pocket, Annabeth studied the tiny bottle that Slenderman had given her. The one that she was supposed to seal the King of the Underworld into. _What a terrifying weapon,_ she thought sarcastically. _A fucking bottle._  
 _He is my main rival, and the only being who is my equal in power. Of course, with the exception of "them"._  
Who is….them? thought Annabeth. Jeff was supposed to tell her, but the asshole was out doing his "hobby", dodging every attempt she'd made at asking the question.  
As if her thoughts summoned him (haha), the door to the room squeaked open. Annabeth turned her head warily as Jeff stepped in, slamming the door again behind him. As she took in his appearance, her eyes widened.  
The killer had his knife in one hand, its deadly blade covered in crimson liquid, as well as his white hoodie, his hands, and a little bit on his face. Annabeth didn't suspect it was Hawaiian Punch. The words tumbled out of her mouth, "What the hell happened to you? You look like a menstruation pad!"  
At the simile, Jeff snarled, his cerulean orbs snapping to Annabeth's face. "The real question is what have you been doing, doll." The killer retorted. "You expect me to believe you've been sitting on my bed this whole time, not doing shit?"  
In fact, 'not doing shit' was exactly what Annabeth had been doing, and she told him so. "Bingo." She replied sarcastically. "You've finally developed some brain cells."  
 _Shit, that was a bad thing to say._ the girl realized a moment later as fury flamed on Jeff's face and he threw the knife. The shining blade whizzed past Annabeth's face, nicking her cheek and drawing the slightest amount of blood. Then, with a clank, it embedded itself into the wall behind her.  
"Learn to watch your fucking mouth, doll." Jeff spat, glaring at Annabeth. "I'm not in the mood for your bullshit right now."  
 _Oh really? Not in the mood? Then why'd you kidnap me, asswipe? Are you not annoyed enough in your sad life? the girl snapped back, at least mentally._ This time, though, she, for once, kept the outburst in her head and took a deep breath. Her heart had accelerated to unbelievable levels – partially from fear (yes, Jeff was scary), and partially from anger that he said he was tired of her when he insisted on keeping her here as his "pet".  
But now wasn't the time to let her temper get away from her. Jeff was pissed, and crossing a certain line could get Annabeth killed. That in itself wasn't the most appealing idea, but her main drive was this: if she died, then what would happen to her father and Emily? Would Slenderman order them killed as well?  
So, she forced herself to make her voice level. "I've been trying to ask you," Annabeth started, "who are 'they'?"  
At her inquiry, Jeff's eyes flickered with some negative emotion. Whoever 'they' was, he didn't seem to like them, but there was also something else in his icy orbs. The same kind of look that took over his face around Slenderman was present.  
'They' were powerful, then. 'They' were people who intimidated Jeff.  
Said boy turned away, and Annabeth slumped slightly, thinking that he was going to disregard the question that she so desperately wanted the answer to for the millionth time. However, to her surprise, a few minutes passed, and he spoke.  
"They're gods."  
Annabeth froze, her puzzled, stressed, sleep-deprived mind trying to wrap around his answer. "G…gods?"  
"Are you fucking hard of hearing, doll?" Jeff retorted. "You heard me the first damn time."  
Ignoring his downgrading comments, Annabeth lifted a slender, blonde eyebrow. "I didn't know there were gods in this universe….or something like that. This world. This dimension."  
The killer snorted. "If there weren't gods, what do you think Zalgo is?"  
"Uh…..an entity, like Slenderman?"  
Jeff chuckled, the laugh tinged with maniacal glee. "You're honestly such a dumbass sometimes, sweetcheeks. Yeah, fuckface is an entity, but he's not the only one – there's a lot more. Examples – Splendorman, Squanderman, and Trendorman (A/N: I think I spelled those wrong XD), his brothers."  
"Slenderman has brothers?"  
"Yep. Hard to fucking believe, isn't it? One fuckface is enough." Jeff snorted. "They each inhabit their own realities, though, and rarely come to this particular one."  
"And what about the gods?" Annabeth asked tentatively, not quite able to process that she was having Gods, Spirits and Entities 101 with Jeff the Teacher. "What are they?"  
"Gods are gods." Jeff responded plainly, making Annabeth groan and roll her eyes at him. "Fair enough." she conceded reluctantly. "Slenderman said Zalgo is his equal in power. So that means entities are just as powerful as gods?"  
The boy coaching her on the secrets of the universe chuckled. "You're talkative all of a sudden, doll." he purred. "Developing Stockholm Syndrome already?" At his playful mockery, Annabeth snapped, "Just answer the fucking question, asshole."  
"You're such a spoilsport, doll ~" Jeff whined. "Fine. In honor of your major hotness, I'll answer your questions."  
"Stop your shitty flirting and just get to the damn point, will you?" the girl retorted irately. She didn't have time for this – she wanted answers, and she wanted them now.  
Jeff rolled his eyes – or tried to, since his lack of eyelids made it rather difficult. "No, hotness." the new pet name made Annabeth cringe mentally, but she pushed the discomfort aside. There were other, more important things to focus on right now than such petty matters. "Entities, at least average ones, aren't anywhere near as powerful as gods. Fuckface and his brothers started out as normal entities, but they managed to surpass the limit and become as powerful as gods. That's why Lord Pointy Horns and fuckface are equals in power."  
"Lord Pointy Horns?" Annabeth echoed. "You mean Zalgo?"  
"Who the fuck else would I mean, doll?"  
The girl processed the information she'd gleaned for a moment. There were gods in this world. There were entities, which was what Slenderman and his brothers were. But they'd managed to gain enough power to become like gods.  
"Do you know any other gods besides Zalgo?"  
"Not personally, dollface. But I can name them all."  
Annabeth blinked. "You memorized all the gods and their names? I've never pegged Jeff the Killer as such a scholar."  
"Very fucking funny." Jeff spat. "The only reason I know them all is because fuckface saw fit to take us back to school and force us to learn all the gods and their names."  
The girl snorted at the thought of Jeff diligently studying. This insane bastard? Studying? Learning anything except how to spread misery, pain, and fear? The notion was nearly impossible to picture. He was a killer, and nothing was going to change that.  
"Can you name them, then?" Annabeth asked.  
To her surprise, Jeff did so without hesitation, without even a snarky comment. Annabeth thought she saw something – a terrifying glint in his eyes, but then it was gone and she concluded that she'd imagined it. She was tired, stressed, and sleep-deprived, after all.  
"There're twelve gods." Jeff informed her. "Their names are Alexiel, Kyle, Prima, Lilia, Caspar, Jacin, Celesta, Nyx, Astrolia, Gilbert, and Arth."  
 _Somehow I expected their names to be more….godlike._ Annabeth thought. _But they sound pretty normal._ Then a realization dawned on her. "Those are only eleven names." she pointed out.  
Jeff nodded. "There's one more, but her godhood in controversial."  
"Why?"  
The killer hesitated, as if wondering if he should disclose the information before he continued. "A little less than a century ago, she – her name was Irina – vanished. "  
Annabeth frowned. "A god….vanished? Are you saying she's hiding somewhere?"  
"That's what everyone thought at first, doll." Jeff said. "But if that were the case, they should have found her by now. They can't. She hasn't been seen or heard of since the day she disappeared."  
The teen paused, letting the knowledge sink in. So a god had vanished less than one-hundred years ago and should have been found, but never was. "Huh. Weird." she muttered, then looked back at Jeff.  
These next words are going to make me hate myself. Annabeth thought. _Good-bye, my dignity._  
"Well…." she practically choked out. "Thanks….for telling me….Jeff."  
Silence.  
Annabeth tensed.  
Jeff was staring at her, a predatory, crazed look in his eyes. It cause goosebumps to erupt over her arms, and her hackles stood on end, muscles tensing and ready to spring into action.  
"You don't have to thank me verbally, hotness." Jeff cooed. "I'll collect my debt another way."  
"What….." Annabeth's mouth was dry as a desert. She tried to swallow, but only ended up exhausting her throat muscles. "What…..other way?"

 **Warning: Triggering Scene Ahead**

Suddenly, abruptly, in the span of a single heartbeat, the girl was pinned onto the bed, unable to move her limbs. Jeff's head was buried in the crook of her neck, his breath tickling her skin. Annabeth shivered, panic, fear, and horror overtaking her body. "What are you….." she faltered, trying to shake him off, but it was no use.  
A warm, damp _thing_ slid across her collarbone, and Annabeth's breath hitched as she realized it was Jeff's tongue. He nibbled lightly on her neck, an animalistic growl rumbling low in his body and his teeth closed around her skin.  
"S-Stop!" the girl frantically attempted to push him away, to do something, anything, but for all her sass and sharp wit, she was just a fifteen-year-old girl, and he was an experienced, remorseless, psychopathic killer. Her efforts were commendable, but utterly futile.  
"It's time for you to pay for the information I gave you, hotness." Jeff whispered seductively in her ear.  
Annabeth's vision blurred. Something trailed down her cheek, tracing its way across her face and landing on the mattress of the bed with a soft plick. A tear. This was impossible. It couldn't be real. It couldn't be happening. _It couldn't._  
"After all…." The killer purred. "You're mine."

_

Uh-oh. Bad things are ahead. Look away, kids.  
Once again, I am so so so so so so so so so so sorry for not updating sooner. I made this chapter (kind-of) long for you guys.  
Please note that the whole entity/god thing is entirely from my own imagination, and it's fine if you don't believe the Creepypasta world is like that.  
Thanks for reading, and I'll see you soon! Love you!


	16. Chapter 14 5

Argh…I can't believe I'm writing this.

As her dilemma fully dawned on her exhausted, sleep-deprived brain, every atom in Annabeth's body felt like it was being frozen over and doused in lava at the same time. Sheer terror rose inside of her – like nothing she'd ever experienced before, even during her first encounter with Jeff that fateful night.

He was going to do it.

He was going to take her last shred of dignity remaining in her bruised, drained, battered body.

Her virginity.

"N-no!" Annabeth released another attempted scream of terror, but she was so exhausted and stressed and frightened that it manifested itself as a weak, pitiful grunt. Hearing it, Jeff stopped for a second and just a second, his chest against her body vibrating with laughter at her obvious horror. Then that second was up and he was moving again.

His hand roved all around her still clothed body hungrily, his intent clear in every touch and every caress. The killer shamelessly made it apparent that he wanted her, or rather, he wanted her body, and the mere thought of it made goosebumps erupt over Annabeth's arms. "Stop it!" she cried again, thrashing as best as she could with Jeff's limbs restraining the movement of her own.

"Shut the fuck up," was the only reply he granted her with, and it infuriated Annabeth, filling her with such fire that her fear was momentarily forgotten, evaporating into the air from the heat of her indignation.

"Fuck you!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs, the screech ripping through the deathly silence of the mansion and probably alerting every fucker that lived in it what was happening in Jeff's room. Not that any of them would care.

At her scream, Jeff growled in visible rage. Annabeth barely had time to see his fist swing back before it came into contact with her face, knocking her head sideways. For a second, the pain didn't register down her adrenaline-filled, and then suddenly, all at once, her nerves detected the blow, transmitted the signal to her brain, and a throbbing agony burst in her left cheek.

"Didn't I tell you already to _shut the fuck up?"_ Jeff spat in her face, drops of saliva landing on her skin. Wrinkling her nose in revulsion, Annabeth frantically swiped them off, attempting to scramble away from Jeff while she was at it, but the killer caught on to her escape in half a second and restrained her deftly, rendering the girl nearly immobile.

A sadistic glee at the look of terror, disgust, and pain her eyes flashed on Jeff's face, and he pulled her close so they were nose to nose, insanity glinting in his cerulean orbs. "Uh-uh. We can't have you doing that, can we, dollface?" he purred. Annabeth narrowed her gray orbs, resolute that she would show her resistance to her very end. Opening her mouth, she prepared to curse him out using the most unflattering names that she had ever cooked up in her entire life, but before Annabeth so much as began, she stopped.

Because Jeff had slammed their lips together, and she'd had her mouth open, allowing the revolting fucktard the perfect opportunity to stick his tongue in and twist it greedily around her moist cavern. Annabeth tried to do something, anything, to push him away, but the reality was that he was just too strong, and her physical strength couldn't possibly compare to his. Even so, she let out muffled screeches, kicked, threw random punches, thrashed her head, even attempted to pull at his charred black hair to get the bastard to just _let go._

Abruptly, something icy cold and razor sharp touched Annabeth's throat, and she craned her eyes to see what it was – Jeff was holding the blade of his knife to her throat. "Stop fucking struggling, damn it," he ordered. "Or you won't get the full experience, hotness."

"Great, because I _don't want it!"_ Annabeth snapped at him, ramming her palms into his face in yet another futile try to get him off of her. Jeff just pressed the knife ever-so-harder on the delicate flesh of her neck, ceasing the girl's frantic squirms as she realized he wouldn't hesitate to drive a blade through her throat if she didn't calm down.

There was no way out of this.

As the realization dawned, Annabeth squeezed her eyes shut as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. She'd always thought that her virginity would be reserved for someone who truly, really loved her for who she was, heart and soul. But no. Fate was a cruel mistress, and instead, her maidenhood would be taken by this – this….there were no words to describe how much she loathed the killer on top of her right now.

Hatred. Anger. Loathing. They shielded her from her terror, they blocked out the little girl that wanted to scream and cry and beg from her soul. And so, Annabeth turned her thoughts toward how much she despised this killer, refusing to allow herself to react as Jeff callously yanked her shirt over her head, revealing her bra.

"Nice." He chuckled, but Annabeth ignored him. If she couldn't get out of this, then she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her broken, of experiencing her beg for mercy and wail. She would become an emotionless shell, a soulless doll. While Jeff did this to her, she wouldn't even be _human._ Oh, she would most definitely cry over it later, most definitely release all her pain and fear later, but not now. Now she was nothing but a body without a soul, without feelings.

A rustling noise forced its way into her consciousness, and Annabeth felt fabric move against her legs and knew right then and there what was happening – Jeff was taking off her pants. Despite that, she arranged her face in a serene, undisturbed mask, so that if someone passed by at this moment, they might think she was a corpse who couldn't feel, couldn't cry, couldn't scream.

With a soft _plop,_ her clothes fell on the floor from where Annabeth could only assume that Jeff had dropped them. Or perhaps he'd purposefully hurtled them off the bed, who knew.

"Nice chest you got there, dollface." Jeff's raspy voice cut through her thoughts that she had wrapped around her mind to separate herself from the hellish reality. Still, Annabeth ignored him, her eyes closed, face relaxed. She wouldn't let him see her fear. She _wouldn't._

"Mind if I look at it?" Laughing at his own (extremely shitty) joke, Jeff slowly inched his hands over Annabeth's flat stomach, crawling upwards toward the general area of her bra clasp. Despite her determination, the girl shivered, her body stimulated by someone else laying hands all over her, even if it wasn't someone she wanted. "Enjoying yourself after all?" the killer snorted and his hands continued to advance.

Then they abruptly stopped.

Although confused at the brief pause, Annabeth knew far, far better than to hope any semblance of mercy was left in Jeff the Killer. Jeffrey Woods was gone – dead. He had begun to decay ever since his life had gone to shit, and the remnants had all been scattered to ashes in the fire that had birthed Jeff the Killer. He was far gone – too far gone. Redemption, purification - none of that was possible for this man. Yes, he'd stopped, but she was confident that it was only temporary.

"Excuse me, where are my manners?" Jeff crooned. "I've almost completely 'unwrapped' you, doll, but I'm still fully clothed. Don't worry; I can fix that."

 _Uh, no._ Annabeth retorted mentally, and it almost did burst from her lips, but she restrained the impulse, reminding herself that she was a doll. So instead, she simply retreated into her own world again as Jeff began to do God-knew-what.

"That's better." his voice once again filled Annabeth's ears, and, against her better judgement, she cracked open her eyes. _Something_ about his tone seemed…off.

What she saw made her instantly regret her decision, but things couldn't be unseen now. Jeff was standing there in front of the bed – _in all his glory._ Inadvertently, Annabeth's eyes trailed downward before she even realized what she was doing. Seeing her line of sight descend, Jeff let out a raspy, amused giggle. "Like what you see, doll?" he asked casually.

Thankfully for Annabeth, she'd managed to control herself and look away, though she'd been too late and had caught a millisecond-long view of his...erm...male organ. Instead, she fixed her gaze onto is upper body, reasoning it was better than _the other option._

The killer was rather (unsurprisingly) toned. He'd gained lots of muscles from terrorizing and killing people, Annabeth guessed with disgust, but how he gained them didn't change the fact that his muscles were well-sculpted, toned, and lean. In fact, if this had been a wedding night, with a man she actually loved, Annabeth might've said he looked pretty good.

But there was absolutely _nothing_ normal about this. This was an assault. This was _rape._

Gritting her teeth, Annabeth turned her head away, refusing to look at the killer any longer. Despite this, she still fully felt the old mattress shift as Jeff made his way back on top of the bed, and it was confirmed when the girl felt a large, rough hand seize her bra strap and unclasp it. With barely a second of hesitation, he pulled off the covering, and cool air hit Annabeth's now bare breasts.

"Those look rather luscious, don't you think?" the killer purred in her ear, his hands now making their way over to Annabeth's chest. His fingers closed around the mound of flesh and squeezed mercilessly. Annabeth bit down on her tongue to suppress the squeak of pain and shock at his actions. There was only one thing between her and Jeff now, and she knew it would be gone soon.

Very soon.

Chuckling darkly to himself, the killer's sinful, blood-stained hands found their way to her panties, tracing a small, teasing circle near her sensitive area. And that was when Annabeth realized it – she was _aroused._ She was truly letting Jeff's touches please her body. Maybe it wasn't her fault, maybe it was just the human body's natural reaction to something like this, but that changed nothing.

With that final thought, her composure crumbled, and tears trickled down her face – tears of fear, anger, revulsion, and so many other emotions that Annabeth found she couldn't name. Her body shook as a sob made its way up her throat, but with a painful effort, she forced it back. She would not cry – not in front of _him._ Why? Why did it feel so…good? This was a forced sexual assault – it was rape. It was horrifying. It was only something the lowest of the low would stoop to. And her body was traitorously _reacting_ to it. Where would Annabeth be if she couldn't trust her own flesh, her own organs, her own senses? What would happen to her?

A finger traced the tear path that streaked down her cheek, and Annabeth, startled, opened her eyes the slightest bit. What met them were icy cerulean orbs filled with insanity and lust, a visage with the charred, black remains of eyelids clinging around the edges of his eyeballs, and a wide, Cheshire-cat grin.

Jeff.

In her despair, Annabeth hadn't realized that she was completely naked now.

They were _both_ completely naked now.

And not only that, Jeff was positioned to thrust. Just one little movement on his part, and her body would be invaded. Soiled. Defiled.

"Don't cry." Jeff rasped quietly, almost, _almost_ tenderly. His hand lightly flicked off another tear gathering at her long lashes, and he brought his mouth to her hear, his breath tickling the sensitive skin.

"It won't be so bad."

 _It won't be so bad._

It was a lie.

It was a lie, and they both knew it.

Jeff thrust.

Blinding pain ripped from between Annabeth's legs to arc like bolts of electricity around her entire body. A harsh screeching sound registered in her ears, and she realized it was her – she was the one screaming.

It hurt. It hurt, but Jeff wasn't going to hold back, and she knew it. He was a remorseless, psychopathic, unfeeling, bloodthirsty, manic killer – he would not be holding back, not when, judging from the loud groans coming from his mouth, it felt so good for him.

Jeff pulled out and thrust in again, this time even deeper. Annabeth could only let out a breathy gasp as _something_ in her body, in her sacred area, was breached and sticky, warm liquid came trickling out. Even through the haze of pain, the metallic tang of it reached her nose – blood.

It was done.

Annabeth wasn't a virgin anymore.

But Jeff wasn't satisfied with that, of course. He continued to mercilessly pull out and push into her body, again and again and again, and even though Annabeth had heard that the pain soon turned to pleasure, that wasn't the case with her. The agony was world-shattering, and she could barely see or think through the thick curtain of torture. Was it because if was forced? Or was there something wrong with her? Something wrong with Jeff? She didn't know.

She didn't know _anything_ anymore.

Meanwhile, Jeff's moans were increasing in volume, and his thrusts were becoming increasingly sloppy, which could on mean one thing - he was reaching his climax. Annabeth wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd first thrust into her, how long it had been since her body had been rocking with his in horrible synchronization, but judging from how exhausted she felt, it had been a considerable amount of time.

All at once, all the tension that had been building up between Annabeth's legs released, and she felt her zone contract tightly, making her wince. Jeff, on the other hand, was apparently experiencing _pure bliss,_ judging from the sounds coming out of his mouth and echoing around the room.

Just when Annabeth's last contraction had stopped, the killer released a loud grunt, and her body involuntarily seized in horror as something warm and thick filled up inside of her. Annabeth knew full well what it was, but no. Just _no._ Thinking about it would simply drive her mad, there was no point. She refused utterly to consider the occurrence.

Jeff's muscles relaxed and he pulled out, collapsing on top of the girl and knocking the wind out of her. Under different circumstances, Annabeth might've scowled at him, but not now. Right now, her mind was going numb. It was going into survival mode, to block out all the awful things that this filthy son of a bitch had done to her – to keep her _sane._ Her brain had simply repressed what transpired deep inside her, because it wasn't something Annabeth could handle. It was something her mind couldn't stomach – that Jeff had just _raped_ her.

Low, glee-filled laughter caught Annabeth's attention, and she looked blankly up to see that Jeff was giggling, as he seemed so fond of.

"I told you it wouldn't be so bad, dollface."

Wow….I'll bet that sucked majorly. I know I haven't been updating lately – so sorry! **Hands out cookies as compensation**

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys soon!


	17. Chapter 15

(The Following Morning) "Hotness."

Annabeth, who had been sitting numbly on the corner of the bed as far away from Jeff as possible, started and raised her head slightly as his rough voice cut through the emptiness in her mind. Still, the moment her eyes touched him, she looked away, unable to stand the twisted, despicable, loathed sight in front of her.

Apparently her refusal to look at him pissed Jeff off, and he snarled, " _Look_ at me when I'm talking to you."

The teenager did no such thing and completely ignored him. Whatever he was going to do to her for being disobedient couldn't be anywhere near as terrible as what he'd done last night.

As soon as her thoughts touched that subject, she immediatenly regretted it, wishing she could somehow snatch it back. Annabeth's body gave the faintest shudder as images of last night bombarded her mind. Remembering what had transpired filled her with fear, shock, disbelief, fury and most prominent amongst them all: _hatred._

A rough, leathery hand grabbed her chin in a vice-like grip and forcefully turned her head, forcing her to meet Jeff's eyes - they were filled with impatience and anger. "I told you to _look at me when I'm talking._ " the killer spat at Annabeth.

Not in the mood to deal with this bullshit, Annabeth glared at him, twisting her chin out of his grasp and ignoring the pain that came with the action. "What do you want?" she retorted, making sure to keep her voice icy.

Quite unexpectedly, Jeff backhanded her out of the blue.

Stress, trauma, fear, and rage were starting to get the better of Annabeth, mixing together in her gut to form one pig puddle of negative emotions. Irritation rose in swiftly in her body, and the throbbing on her cheek where the killer had struck her only added gasoline to the flames. She wanted to shout, ask Jeff what the fuck his problem was, but forced the question back down her throat. _Keep a cool head, Annabeth._ the teen reminded herself. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of snapping at him so that he'd have another excuse to use her as his punching bag.

"What I _want,"_ Jeff continued, emphasizing the last word to make a point, "is for you to stop being a stuck-up little bitch!" he was practically shouting now, for reasons Annabeth couldn't wrap her mind around, but then again, this was a volatile, unbalanced, homicidal, blood-thirsty psychopath. A sane person like her simply _couldn't_ understand how his mind worked.

"You think your life is so fucking hard? So terrible and shitty and unfair? Well - " Jeff grabbed a fistful of Annabeth's tangled golden locks and forced them nose-to-nose. She could feel his breath on her cheek and tried to twist out of his grip, but it was no use. " - _it's not._ It's fucking not. Do you even know what the hell you put me through every day since you've come here, bitch? You're so damn stubborn and thickheaded that you make me want to slam _my_ head into the concrete sometimes. Why the fuck do you have to be such a callous bitch?" the killer ranted, his death-grip on her hair tightening with every passing second until Annabeth was sure the roots of her hair would be ripped right out.

Despite that, she _could not believe_ his scathing words. Was the retarded piece of shit saying that...was he saying that _she_ made _his_ life hard? That _she_ was the villain here and _he_ was the victim?

Anger rumbled in the pit of her stomach, rising like lava in a volcano. She wasn't anyone particularly heroic, and she may have done some bad things in her life, like all human beings, but she wasn't the bad guy - especially not in this case. It was _Jeff_ who'd stalked her. It was _Jeff_ who'd kidnapped her. It was _Jeff_ who'd abused her physically and verbally her. It was _Jeff_ who'd raped her.

And he wanted to act like he was the victim here?

Annabeth had tried to hold in her fury - she'd really tried, knowing it wouldn't be a good idea. But right now, she just couldn't. The past week had been hell for her, and yesterday night it had all come to a culmination when this asshole had raped her. His backstory was utter shit, and Annabeth admitted that Jeffrey Woods had been a victim of cruelty - and the Jeff the Killer was the result of it. But that didn't excuse anything. He - all of the psychopaths in this mansion - killed and tortured and raped for living. For _sport._ A traumatic past didn't always give one the excuse to be a maniacal serial killer, and it didn't give one the right to take their pain out on and involve others in their mess, because they felt so damn sorry for themselves. Jeff had _raped_ her - that wasn't going to change. She needed to get some things off her chest - she _had the right._

"You - " the girl breathed out. "You're a hypocritical, retarded piece of shit."

"What the fuck did you just - "

"My life wasn't the worst, I'll fucking admit it! But lately it's been nothing short of hell - _hell_ \- because _you_ decided to show up and ruin it all! It was your choice to stalk me, and it was your choice to _fucking rape_ me! And you want to act like _you're_ the victim? I can understand why you're always wallowing in self-pity - I know enough of your story, and it _is_ terrible, and _I'm sorry_ to hear that you had to go through all that! But that does not give you the right to take it out on others - to act like the world owes you something! Whoever bullied you - those three bullies, whatever their names were - they're dead! They're gone! It's been _decades_ since they died! Everyone else living in this world right now - none of them have anything to do with your past! News flash, _Jeffrey -_ the word does not revolve around you! Your past doesn't give you the right to kill people that have done absolutely nothing to hurt you! If you can't face that - if you can't realize that you're nothing more than a pawn on a chessboard just like everyone else in the grand scheme of things, then you..." she, for once, grabbed the collar of his hoodie and yanked him face-to-face with her. Reflected in his cerulean orbs, Annabeth could see herself, and she was surprised by how fierce she looked.

But even more so, she was surprised by how startled Jeff appeared. Was this the first time anyone had ever given him a good verbal cutdown?

"...you're not worthy to live." she finished.

Silence settled in the room. Compared to the angry shouting of Annabeth, the silence seemed weighted, eerie, tense...in a sense, it was even louder that her yells.

"You..." Jeff growled, lowering his head so his charred black hair fell over his eyes. Annabeth was sure he was about to either scream and beat her into a pulp, or maybe just whip out his knife and stab her right then and there, but another voice from outside the room interrupted him.

"W-what the fu-fuck is going on i-in there?"

At the sound, Jeff abruptly spun around, rolling his eyes (or trying to). With an air of obvious irritation, he stomped to the door and in a terrible, mocking imitation of the other person's voice, asked, "Wh-what the f-fuck do y-you w-wa-nt?"

The door the the bedroom rattled as the person outside - Annabeth guessed it was Toby from the stuttering voice and cracking, popping sounds - kicked it forcefully. Jeff, who'd been standing barely an inch from it, jumped back and complained, "Hey! What the hell?!"

"The b-boss want t-to see y-you." at those words, Annabeth froze, and her insides iced over even more so at Toby's next statement. "H-he says i-it's t-time."

Apparently Jeff was just as surprised. "Already?" he asked. "I thought fuckface needed to find a way into Lord Pointy Horn's dimension first."

"W-what else d-do you think he's be-been doing for the last d-day?"

"That was fast." Jeff muttered to himself, then called back out. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"W-with t-the girl."

"With the girl." Jeff confirmed irritably.

" G-good." Toby responded. The sound of footsteps echoed through the hall, signaling that the young man had walked away. Once he was gone, Jeff turned back to Annabeth, his expression like thunder as he glared at her. For a moment, Annabeth wondered if he was going to finish what he'd started and beat her ass, and she was more than ready to fight back, body still shaking from rage at everything he'd done to her - then having the audacity to act like he was the victim.

Instead, Jeff turned around, threw open the doors to the small, old closet forgotten at the corner of the room, dug out some clothes, and threw them at her. Annabeth, surprised, fumbled to catch them but managed. Looking down in her arms, she noted that they consisted of a plain black T-shirt, a creamy-white hoodie (which, Annabeth noted with disdain, looked a bit life Jeff's own bloodstained hoodie), a pair of skinny jeans, and black combat boots, which, again, looked a bit too much like Jeff's shoes for Annabeth's liking. Again, she didn't even want to begin to guess where he'd gotten women's clothes from. Instead, the girl muttered, "Do you have a hair tie?"

Jeff groaned, sounding for a moment, just like a normal teenager. "You're so fucking needy, sweetcheeks. Here." he tossed her a small object, and this time Annabeth caught it rather easily. It was a hair tie, just like she'd requested.

"You have ten minutes to shower and dress. Now move your ass." Jeff ordered. Seeing no point in arguing, Annabeth did as he said, letting her muscles relax briefly in the shower before getting out, paranoid that Jeff would try to look in on her. Thankfully, he didn't, and she got into the new clothes relatively undisturbed.

Glancing in the mirror, Annabeth noted how terrible she looked, even after a quick shower. Her face was rather gaunt - she'd barely gotten any food over the week of her abduction and she had, quite visibly lost weight. Her face was bruised from when Jeff had punched her, as were her arms, though the marks there were fainter. Her golden hair was tangled and pretty grimy, and her skin seemed pale from lack of nourishment and sunlight.

 _How the fuck does Jeff find me attractive in this state?_ Annabeth wondered as she climbed into the clothes. Then again, his version of beauty was probably not the same as hers. The man practically had the complete polar opposite interpretation of it, actually.

Suppressing a burst of hatred at the thought of what had transpired yesterday night, Annabeth finished dressing and pulled her tangled hair into a messy ponytail. It was a relief to get the damp locks away from her face, she thought. Brushing shorter strands out of her face, the girl took a deep breath for courage and exited the bathroom.

Jeff, once again, was already prepared as he hadn't bothered cleaning himself up. He was still wearing the same, bloodstained white hoodie, tattered black jeans, and worn combat boots. His charcoal hair was still messy as ever. With a smirk, he gestured her over as she came out of the bathroom, eyes running shamelessly over her body.

"Let's go, _princess."_

_

Whew! This one was kind of long! I feel like Beth was a little too passive considering he raped her...sorry about that.

So the mission is finally about to commence, huh?

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys soon!


	18. Chapter 16

" _Fuck. Me._

Annabeth snarled, clenching her fists as she glared at the men standing in front of her. Jeff was already bad enough, and now she had to do some impossible mission of trapping the Lord of the Underworld in the company of these boys?

She wasn't looking forward to it.

 _"Is something the matter, child?"_ Slenderman intoned inside everyone's head, causing Annabeth to jump. She didn't think she would ever get used to having him speak to them on a spiritual level. It was downright creepy, at least in Annabeth's books.

"Well..." the blonde girl hesitated, brushing back a loose curl of golden hair. She didn't want to offend any of them, and least of all Slenderman, but the urge to speak her mind was slightly stronger. "It's just that...no, it bothers me that I have to travel with..." she glanced disdainfully over at her companions. "..with _them."_

"You have a problem?" interjected a quiet, apathetic voice, coming from the man that Annabeth now knew as Hoodie. She couldn't see his face underneath his gloomy-looking black mask, but the girl would wager that he was glaring at her, not that she particularly cared. Let them think whatever the hell they wanted. She had her own opinion of this group, too. Glaring back, she snapped, "Yes, I do."

Hoodie took a threatening step forward, but then he froze. Perplexed at his sudden hesitation, Annabeth glanced at Slenderman and saw that the faceless entity was looking at Hoodie with an aura of something close to disappointment. She frowned. Did he have that much control over these killers that he could manipulate their bodies when he wanted to?

 _"Do not, Hoodie."_ Slenderman warned. Hoodie bowed his head and stepped back to his original spot. Annabeth didn't fail to notice the look that the other man with the feminine-featured mask - Masky, was it? - shoot him a glance. Though his mask obscured his face from her view, Annabeth thought he looked almost..worried.

Did Masky actually care about Hoodie?

 _Whatever,_ the teen thought disdainfully. _It's none of my business._ She didn't care, really. In her eyes, they were still killers that had threatened to kill the only two people she had left, so they were assholes that she despised. Simple.

 _"I am sorry."_ Slenderman didn't sound particularly sorry at all to her, but at least he had the decency to apologize, unlike _other people. "I understand that your company may be...objectable in your eyes, but they are my best fighters, and by far the most capable of protecting you."_

Annabeth narrowed her eyes. "You're risking your five best soldiers to protect me on this mission? Is it _that_ important?"

 _"It is, child."_

Nodding reluctantly, Annabeth's gray eyes swiveled around to face the boys she would be participating in this suicide, bullshit mission with.

The man with messy, dark brown hair and a yellow jacket - Masky, apparently Slenderman's head proxy.

The man with the yellow Hoodie, frowningblack mask, and gruff disposition - Hoodie.

The man with tousled, light brown hair, goggles, a mouthguard, who was constantly snapping and twitching - Ticci Toby.

The man with the blue mask, black ooze trawling down his eyeless sockets, and sharp, predator-like teeth - Eyeless Jack.

And last but not least, the most hated sight Annabeth ever had the misfortune to behold - the man with bleached white skin, a self-inflicted Cheshire smile, and charred black hair - Jeff the Killer.

Annabeth sighed to herself, reaching inside her pocket and making sure that the glass bottle was still in her grasp. If she lost it now, shit would go down. Without it, she wouldn't be able to seal Zalgo, and then her father and Emily were fucked.

She was _not_ letting that happen.

"Are we about to got right now?" she questioned Slenderman, to which he nodded. Listing his head to the side, Jeff, in an annoyed tone, asked, "How the fuck are we going to do that?"

Next to Hoodie, Masky tensed. "Jeff...language with the boss." he snapped, with an underlying tone of "I'll-bash-your-head-in-if-you-don't-show-the-boss-proper-respect." Jeff just sneered at the proxy in response, face twisting with scorn, before turning his attention back to Slenderman, who didn't seem too perturbed with Jeff's disrespect. That fact surprised Annabeth - for an immortal, powerful entity, Slenderman seemed rather lenient...almost fatherly. Well, except for the time he'd threatened to kill Emily and her father if she refused to partaked in the mission.

 _"I have discovered a breach between the dimensions."_ Slenderman replied to Jeff's oh-so-polite question. _"Using this weakness, I've managed to open a portal that will transport you to Zalgo's world."_

Annabeth frowed. "Zalgo's world...the Underworld?"

 _"Precisely."_

At Slenderman's confirmation, the gray-eyed girl gulped, not fancying the idea that, less than an hour from now, she'd be stepping into Hell itself. Literally. And what kind of company did she have? Five batshit insane killers who probably would rather see her neck snapped than _protect_ her.

 _"Children..."_

All five of the men looked over at the faceless entity at that word, as if snapping stright to attention. Annabeth narrowed her eyes - they'd all moved in perfect unison, like one mind had been controlling them. How did that work? Did they not have control over their own bodies, or was it simply a coincidence?

 _"Make sure you keep Annabeth safe."_ Slenderman ordered, a deadly tone hidden behind his calm words. _"She is the key to stopping Zalgo. If you do no, I will see to it that you are all appropriately punished for failure."_

They all nodded, seeming cowed, even Jeff, who appeared to be the most defiant out of her new caretakers. Obviously, whatever power Slenderman wielded over these killers, it was not to be messed with. He had these dangerous, mentally unstable lunatics completely subservient to him, and that was enough to tell Annabeth what a volatile and mighty being he was.

"Should she be trained as well?" Masky questioned in a meek voice. At his words, the teen snapped to attention. 'Trained'? What was that supposed to mean? Were these sick bastards going to recruit her as one of them? _Hell no._

 _"Ah, yes. That would indeed be useful."_

"Hold on a minute." Annabeth interjected, getting tired of being referred to like some animal or object that could be owned. She was _no one's_ possession. "What do you mean, _train_ me? If you're thinking of turning me into one of _you,_ forget it. There's no way in hell I'll ever do that."

Masky, as per usual, looked furious with Annabeth's blatant disrespect, but Slenderman waved him off. _"Do not worry, child."_ he reassured. _"I merely meant that you will be at least partially trained in combat so you are better able to take care of yourself."_

 _Against Zalgo or these monsters?_ Annabeth wondered sullenly in her head, though, she supposed, that Slenderman could hear her thought anyway. If he did, the faceless entity paid no mind. _"I shall now open the portal that will transport you to the Underworld."_

No sooner had he said that, there was a giant sound akin to a colossal vacuum cleaner, and in front of Annabeth, Masky, Hoodie, Toby, E.J., and Jeff, a _thing_ resembling a portal of some kind opened up, powerful winds howling in an attempt to suck them into its dark depths. Resisting wasn't too terribly difficult, though, much to Annabeth's surprise.

She hesitated. "Do we...do we just...step in?"

 _"Yes, child."_

Before Annabeth could respond, Masky swung into action. In a single, fluid move, the young man saluted to Slenderman and then, bunching his muscles, leaped into the portal and was swallowed into the black hole. With the same show of respect, Hoodie stepped in, also being sucked in. His action was mirrored by Toby. E.J. didn't salute, but he did nod deeply before making his way in.

Now it was only Annabeth and Jeff. The girl hesitated, unwilling to walk straight into the portal, but unwilling to let Jeff go first. Who knew what sort of bullshit he'd have planned for her on the other side? Gazing behind her, she caught a glimpse of the rising sun through the moldy, battered window in the room - maybe the last sunlight she would ever see.

Noticing her stare, Jeff snorted. "Aw, hurry the fuck up, doll." he ordered.

She didn't move.

Rolling his cerulean eyes, the perpetually grinning killer's hand reached out, and Annabeth instinctively flinched, recalling that he'd done the same thing when he'd raped her. However, this time, the only thing Jeff did was almost - _almost -_ sweet.

He grabbed her hand.

The gentle touch was so unexpected, Annabeth's body jolted in surprise. Was this what Jeffrey Woods had been like, before his downward spiral into madness?

 _"One more thing, child."_ Slenderman called, his mental voice cutting through the girl's thoughts. She glanced at him, her gaze questioning, and the faceless entity inclined his head ever-so-slightly. _"Make sure you do not allow your desire to be loved render you vulnerable to Zalgo's traps. Deception is his favorite way to kill._

Annabeth opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment, Jeff jumped, yanking her into the portal with him via their joined hands. A scream clawed its way to Annabeth's throat, but the rush of air all around her seemed to suck all the oxygen out of her lungs until she didn't have enough to whisper, let alone shriek.

Her body was weightless, and she fell. 

**sings dramatically** FINALLY THE MOMENT HAS ARRIVED!~ (Yes, that was a reference)

I know this update is pretty late, and I apologize. Being the last few weeks of school, my teachers are firing guns at us by this point, it almost seems like they're trying to make us fail. T^T

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys soon! Gretel, out.


End file.
